Colliding Collapse
by Mr.Crouch'sDaughter
Summary: After the OK case is closed, the FBI is pleased with good press. Jayden still struggles with the side effects of the ARI, while the "Chicago sniper" emerges. Together with his best friend Charlie Stephens and reserved cooperation of Lauren Teason, Jayden tries to discover the true facts in the case. Sacrifices will be made until the final question is: Whom do you trust?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Heavy Rain and all its characters belong to Quantic Dream.

Summary: The Origami Killer case is closed. The FBI is pleased with good press. While Norman Jayden fights his personal weaknesses, a new serial killer emerges. And this time, the ARI may not be enough.

Author's Note: Here we are, fanfiction for Heavy Rain. Not as dark as my usual fanfictions, just something for entertainment. And to be honest, I'm not sure about it. So, reviews, good or bad, are very welcome.

Rating: T for strong language, violence, drug abuse. Rating may change in later chapters.

**Colliding collapse**

"_The individual is handicapped by coming face-to-face with a conspiracy so monstrous he cannot believe it exists. The American mind simply has not come to a realization of the evil which has been introduced into our midst. It rejects even the assumption that human creatures could espouse a philosophy which must ultimately destroy all that is good and decent."_

_(J. Edgar Hoover)_

**Chapter One: Case closed**

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Section for medical treatment,_

_2th January 2012, 08:45 a.m._

If there was one thing Norman Jayden really hated, even detested, it was waiting. Waiting without any purpose. Without any achievement. Waiting for a coffee he had ordered. Waiting in the regular traffic jam.

It was his first day at the bureau after the Origami killer case. His superior, Special Agent Walther Garland, had ordered him to take his holiday just after all the reports had been written. He had told him how _great_ his role in the case had been, how _pleased _everybody was about the reaction of the press, how much _admiration _he earned for putting his life at risk to save the boy. And so on.

Jayden had felt pretty uncomfortable at the eulogy, just as he had felt with his face on all the magazines. The interviews. The talk show.

All he had wanted to do was lock himself up in his office and start with a new case. Find some peace until the reporters (vultures) found a new victim.

But no. Instead of just letting him go on, Garland had made his reservations, concerning his well-being. Said he seemed exhausted. Tired. Worn.

Said it was only understandable he needed to take a break.

Jayden had told him that everything was fine. He didn't need a break. But Garland had just shaken his head and told him if he didn't take his holidays free willing, he would order him to do so.

So, he had done it. He had basically locked himself up for two weeks in his apartment, not daring to go outside, afraid the reporters would catch him again, or somebody on the street would recognize him. Luckily, fame was not very constant. And the nation forgot pretty easily.

Not that it changed much. He still spent most of his holiday in his apartment, reviewing the Origami killer case, reading something about the newest theories in profiling, just to survive the feeling of being useless. Boredom was his number one foe. And patience was probably his greatest weakness, proven again now as he sat on the chair in the waiting room of the section for medical treatment.

He knew the procedure. As he had signed up for the ARI project, he had been told there would be medical check-ups every quarter of the year. Blood tests. The usual stuff.

He knew what the doctor would say, as well. That he should try to reduce the time he spent with the ARI. And the use of the Triptocaine. That the side effects weren't completely explored. That it could be dangerous. Long-term damage was the word spooking through his head.

He was sure the doctors were exaggerating. The FBI would never let anybody use the ARI if it was really dangerous. It would mean they would have to spend a lot of money for agents damaged by the stuff. And if departments paid attention to one thing, then it was money.

The door to the office right to him opened.

"You can come in now, Agent Jayden", Doctor Ambert said.

Norman stood up and followed the man to his office. Doctor Ambert sat down at his desk and looked at his computer.

"Your blood tests are slightly better than the last time", he said. "Did you reduce the triptocaine?"

"Yes", Jayden said.

The man nodded thoughtfully. "Nevertheless, the reaction test is worse. I assume you haven't tried to reduce the time you spend with the ARI as well?"

"Well, the last cases I had didn't allow any waste of time", Jayden said.

"You know, Agent Jayden, there was a time when agents worked without the ARI and solved cases nevertheless? The major part of our agents still doesn't use it."

He did not reply. Doctor Ambert just sighed and shook his head.

"Well, you're fit for service. But I think you should really consider slowing it down a little. Your health is something you shouldn't gamble with. In the worst case, nobody can give it back to you, no matter how many medals they pin on your vest."

"I'll think about it", Jayden said.

Doctor Ambert only raised his eyebrow in disbelief. "You can leave."

Jayden nodded. Finally.

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Special Agent Garland's office,_

_2th January 2012, 09:02 a.m._

Special Agent Walther Garland was a very steady and patient man. His resolute and vigilant nature had owned him two commendations and a nice job. Whereas other agents in their early forties still risked their lives, he was in the position to decide who to send out in combat. Though, these decisions were naturally tough. One needed to know his people, needed to know about their strengths and weaknesses and select them carefully. Selecting the wrong agent for a case meant putting everything at risk.

The case he would pass on today was a very, very risky one. It had taken him two weeks to decide for an agent and even now, he was not absolutely sure he had made the right decision.

So, as Norman Jayden stepped into his bureau, he observed him from the very first second. He knew about the ARI. About the triptocaine. But according to Doctor Ambert, the blood results were better, though the Origami Killer case surely hadn't been a nice walk in the park. And actually, the younger agent did look fitter than the last time he had met him. The lines under the eyes were still visible and he still was way too pale, but then again, even before Jayden had signed up for the ARI project, he had had that almost white skin tone.

And of course, the press loved him. The nation loved him. That was a big plus. His own superiors wanted him to give the case to Norman. Hell, they needed good press.

"Sir", Jayden said.

"Norman, take a seat", Garland replied. "Would you like a coffee?"

"No, thank you."

"Doctor Ambert just informed we about the blood results. I'm glad to hear they got better. You're doing a great job, Norman, but we don't want you to ruin yourself with it."

Jayden just nodded.

"Well, did you enjoy your holidays?"

_Yeah, like hell, _he thought, but didn't say it, of course.

"Yeah. You were right. I really needed some days to… slow it down a bit."

His superior nodded with content. "I told you. Rest a little and then you can start over with maximum strength. You'll need it. I got a new case for you which makes the Origami Killer case look like a child's play."

And with these words, he gave him a file.

"Have you ever heard about the Chicago sniper?" Garland asked.

Jayden looked at him. "Didn't he kill three police officers one year ago?"

"Yes. One from the homicide department and two from Vice. Though the police tried desperately to catch him, they never got a real clue to go on. His identity remained a mystery. We sent two profilers, but even that didn't make a difference. He just vanished. Until now, as you can see in the file."

The young agent opened it and had a quick look. Two Washington police officers from the Vice department shot down, three weeks ago.

"He is in Washington?" he asked.

"Apparently, yes. The police have investigated the last three weeks, without getting any clue. They turned to us for help. We analyzed everything once more. It seems as if our sniper is somehow involved into drug business and probably murder, for he doesn't just shoot at random police officers. There surely is a relation to the cases they worked on. And these cases, in Chicago as well as in Washington, included lots of heroine."

"A drug gang?"

"No. We believe the drugs are just a way to get money. This guy is after more. We don't know after what, but he seems willing to kill everyone with scaring precision who gets in his way. We took over the case. The police are out of it. And I want you to find out what the hell this guy is after. I want him nailed down to the ground, just like the Origami Killer. I'm not going to lie. This is going to be pretty dangerous. But I think you're the best profiler we have. I think that we can get him."

"Yes, sir", Jayden just said.

"Very good. Look at the file and tell me what you think."

He nodded and stood up, heading for the door.

"Oh", Garland said. "Before I forget it – the ballistic expects you at 11:15 a.m., for test shooting."

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Section for technical support 1.3,_

_2th January 2012, 10:51 a.m._

Charles Theodore Stephens was a nerd. You could see it directly when you met him. The old fashioned glasses, the messy dark blonde hair, the lack of fashionable clothes. Most of the time, he lived in his own high-tech world, nothing catching his attention except computer codes, passwords and the best way to avoid security protocols. Charlie, as everyone called him, was not an agent. The FBI had recruited him directly after he had finished his studies in Harvard and had offered him a nice, single bureau and enough money for his technical doddles. He had accepted immediately.

The agents made jokes about him, naturally. But these jokes were harmless, against to the ones he had needed to survive in high school. Well, everyone needed him from time to time, even if it was only to fix a computer problem.

Besides, Charlie was not very eager to make friends. He believed that it was better to have a few good friends you could rely on instead of knowing a bunch of people that would turn your back on you in difficult situations.

And because nerds had a way of finding one another, his best friend at work (and even in private) was Agent Norman Jayden. Hero Jayden, who hadn't bothered to visit or even call him since he had come back from Philadelphia.

Charlie had almost given up on ever seeing him again, except for his face on the newspapers, as he appeared in his office.

He raised his eyes from the computer and leant back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. This time, his friend would not get out of the situation easily.

"Oh, look at that. Look who is finally coming down to the chamber of inferior. Good day, your royal highness. Can I get you something? A coffee?" Charlie said.

Jayden frowned at him. "Could you stop that shit?"

"Of course, sir. Your delight is my very only concern", he said, even bowing to him.

"Okay, I don't have time for this", Jayden replied angrily and turned.

"Yeah. Like you don't have time for a short visit or a call", Charlie said.

"I would have visited you if I Garland hadn't ordered me to take my fucking holidays!"

"Last time I was informed, you had a cell phone. Even a smartphone. Or did you lose it on your blasting chase for the Origami Killer?"

"No."

"Then you could have called", Charlie stated.

"You know you're sounding like an abandoned wife, do you?"

"Really? And you acted like a 5 year old who accidentally caught a killer and desperately searched for a hiding place."

For a second, silence fell between them.

"I hate publicity", Jayden mumbled. "Do you know how the others call me lately? Press boy."

"They just envy you for the glory."

"They can have it! These reporters were worse than contract killers."

"Norman Jayden. More afraid of reporters than killers. Wow. You really are a natural celebrity."

"Very funny", Jayden growled.

Charlie grinned. "Well, I forgive you. I wouldn't have time to chit-chat, anyway. I was working on a new top secret virus, which can infiltrate…"

"Yeah, sounds very interesting."

"You philistine. You work with all this technology and don't even want to know what it can do."

"All I need is this", Jayden said and held out the ARI.

Charlie glanced at it. "Yeah, sure. So, you know how to use them now?"

"I knew how to use them all the time."

"I meant, without fucking your head up."

"Well, I'm still here, am I not?"

"Apparently."

Jayden sat down on the chair in front of the desk.

"So, what happened in good old D.C.?" he asked.

"Wait. Let me think about it. Ah, rumor has it that Agent Franklin was caught in the act with his very own Miss Moneypenny."

"Not surprising."

"And Agent Sterlington has been promoted to Special Agent."

"What? Sterlington? The one who can't even calculate one plus one? Never!"

"Oh yeah. If you need proof, just run through the building. You'll surely meet him up and get a look on his new badge. All he does the whole day is patrol through the corridors, to make sure he can show his badge to everybody."

"I hate that guy", Norman muttered.

"Yeah, tell me. Ah. And then there's one last thing. We got a new ballistic expert. And tell you what: she's a nine."

"A nine?"

"On a scale from zero to ten."

Jayden stared at him, puzzled.

"In appearance. Looks!"

"Ah. Great", he said indifferently.

"A nine, Jayden! When did you ever see a nine walk around here? The best we got is Miss Moneypenny and she's only a 7.6 or something like that."

"Charlie, good looking women don't work in the ballistics. In your dreams, maybe, but not in reality."

"Well, they probably didn't, but now they do."

"Whatever you say. Your taste is not mine, anyway. I would rate Miss Moneypenny on 5. There's nothing behind that smile."

"Oh yeah, of course. You're looking for something more, aren't you?"

"Against to you, I'm not looking for anybody at the moment. But if I did, I'd like someone who at least has another topic than fashion."

"Yeah, I bet all you do on your occasional _dates_ is talking", Charlie said, grinning wryly.

"Okay, that's it, then", Jayden said and stood up.

"Oh, come on. Don't act like that again. You know I'm just joking."

"Your jokes aren't funny", Jayden said. "Anyway, I have to go to the ballistic. I have an appointment with your nine. Apparently, there's a new gun model out and I need to do the test shooting."

"Oh god, you're so lucky. Since she arrived, I wish I was an agent too. For the first time in my life", Charlie said, stretching in the chair.

"You can still sign up for the training", Jayden replied.

"Are you mental? Getting up at six o'clock for a long distant run? No, I don't hate myself enough to torture me like that."

Jayden just shook his head. "I'll probably come down for lunch."

"Yeah, sure. Greet the nine from me, will you?"

With one last glance at his friend, Jayden left the office.

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Ballistics,_

_2th January 2012, 11:16 a.m._

The labs of the ballistic were probably the tidied ones in the whole headquarter. The white floor and walls were always shining from cleaning things; the guns examined and used for training were always sorted according to model and locked up carefully behind bullet-proof glass.

The former ballistic expert, Agent Catohe, had had the habit of supervising everybody very closely during the firing practice, which had caused a lot of young agents to shoot nervously, and by that failing the tests.

Norman was pretty sure every one of them was lucky he was gone. Probably they hoped that a woman wouldn't be so severe.

As he entered the ballistics, the only one in the office was a secretary he hadn't seen before. She probably belonged to some technology section. She was leaning over a desk, probably filling in a report for one of her superiors, her back turned towards him. He could spot that she was rather tall, with a slender, athletic figure. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a simple shirt, a strange outfit, even for a secretary. They usually wore pencil skirts and blouses. Her long black hair was bound to a simple ponytail.

He waited if she would turn – she must have heard the door opening – but she did not.

"I'm sorry, Miss", he said, after realizing she either hadn't heard him or didn't matter who just came in.

Finally, she turned around. For a second, he was startled. She had a perfectly featured face, with high cheekbones, full lips and nice, vigilant blue eyes. Her skin tone was a light bronze. She probably had South American ancestors. He guessed her age around 30. Obviously, she did not need a pencil skirt to keep up with the other secretaries.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice steady and calm, darker than he had expected.

"Er… I'm searching for Agent Lauren Teason. Have you seen her anywhere around?"

"Yes", she said again.

"Well… Could you tell me where I can find her?"

"No", she replied matter-of-factly.

Stunned, he stood silent, not knowing what to say next.

The woman sighed and shook her head slightly, seeming unnerved.

"You already found her. I am agent Teason."

"Oh", he said. "I thought you were a secretary."

She raised an eyebrow, not looking very pleased with his explanation.

"I'm sorry", he hurried to add.

"Yes, of course you are", she said ironically. "Like all the others."

"Well, you're not wearing a suit", he tried to defend himself.

"Because I'm working with guns. I fire at least ten a day, a suit would be very unpractical, don't you think?"

"Agent Catohe always wore a suit."

"After all I heard about Agent Catohe, he was more into theory than practical experience. You're here for the test shooting?"

"Yes. I'm…"

"Agent Norman Jayden, yes, I know that. I guess there's no one in America who doesn't know who you are", she said carelessly and walked over to the left door. "Well, are you coming?"

He followed her up and through the door to the shooting range. Lauren walked over to a cabinet and took out the Beretta, giving it to him.

"There you go."

He turned it over in his hands. "It seems lighter", he said.

"It is", she confirmed. "Now, if you would hand out your old one."

"Yeah. Yeah, of course", he said, took the gun out of his holster and gave it to her.

She took it and looked at it. "Wow. Did you drive over it? This one's got more scratches than the one Agent Miller threw of a building."

"Yeah, you know, some people actually use guns on the field, not only behind bullet-proof glass in a lab", he said ironically.

"Yes, I know. I used a gun like that for… wait… eight years, but mine never looked so abused. But well, I was just a street cop, that's a far less dangerous job than being aprofiler", she said. Though her tone was still very calm, he believed he could hear loathing in it.

He looked at her for a second, then said: "So, can we start? I'd like to get back to my work."

"Please", she said and waved her hand towards the shooting range.

"Ten shots. Five at steady targets, five at moving. But I suppose you know the procedure", she said.

"Yeah."

"Great. You're ready?"

He nodded.

Seconds later, the first target showed up. The bullet hit the third inner ring. Not bad, but not as good as he had been with his old gun.

The second bullet landed somewhere between the third and second ring. The third was a clear hit at the second, like the fourth. The fifth finally hit the first inner ring.

He took off the ear protection and turned for agent Teason.

"Not bad", she said. "Some agents had quite difficulties. Ready for the moving?"

He nodded again, putting the ear protection back on. Just as he positioned himself towards the shooting range again, he felt his right tremble slightly.

_Oh shit…_

The first target showed up and he fired, hitting it. But the tremor in his right got worse and the second bullet scratched the outer ring.

_Come on, just three more. Get a hold of yourself…_

He tried desperately to shake it off, but his effort was useless. Concentrating on slowing his heartbeat and trying to get control over his trembling hands, he missed the last three targets. Luckily, as he took off the ear protection, the tremor was gone. The last thing he needed was agent Lauren Teason spotting his hands trembling.  
"Okay… I guess we repeat this", Agent Teason said, eyes fixed on the report. She looked up at him and furrowed her brow. "Are you alright? You look pale."

"I'm fine", he said, clenching his right, just in case.

She looked at him skeptical. "You need to hand in the gun until you passed the test shooting."

He gave it to her, then asked: "When can I repeat it?"

Great. No gun meant no investigation outside the building.

"The next test shootings are scheduled for Monday, 16th", she said.

"What? That's in two weeks!" he said.

She just shrugged her shoulders. "That's the way it is."

"But… I just got a new case! I can't waste two weeks doing nothing!"

"I'm sorry, but that's none of my concern", she replied and walked out of the room, back to the office. He followed her on step this time.

"But you could let me shoot tomorrow, if you wanted to, couldn't you?"

"Rules are rules, agent Jayden", she replied calmly.

"You could make an exception, couldn't you? I wouldn't tell anyone. Please."

She turned around and the look in her eyes was deadly.

"I'm not going to treat you in any other way than I treat the other agents, just because TV calls you a hero and for a whole week, one couldn't buy any newspaper without your face on it. To me, you are an agent like everybody else and you will follow the same rules. Are we clear on that?"

"You're doing this because I thought you were a secretary, do you? Because you're sick of being misjudged by your looks. You make me pay for that."

"No. I do this because it's right."

"But I don't have the time to wait for two weeks! And you are here the whole day! I mean, what are you doing except examining rifles and shooting? Nothing! But I have to catch a sniper who has killed at least five people until now!"

"Oh my god. You really think you're irreplaceable, do you? If this case is so urgent, I'm sure the FBI has another profiler who can solve it. Now get out of my lab", she said sternly.

With a last glance at her, he turned and dashed out, smashing the door as he left.

_A/N: Alright. It's 4 a.m. and I'm still not sure if I like it at all. So, if you think I should stop, just tell me to. _


	2. Friendly maneuver

_For disclaimer and everything else see chapter one._

**Chapter Two: Friendly maneuver **

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Section for technical support 1.3,_

_2th January 2012, 12:01 p.m._

Fixing a motherboard was a very tricky work. Full concentration and steady hands were needed to place the tiny elements on the right positions. One mistake and you could start over again.

Charlie was almost down with it, as the door to his office was opened and smashed back so hard it didn't even close properly.

The small silver circuit board flew halfway out of the motherboard, together with the graphic card.

The man let out a frustrated groan and looked up at the intruder, just to see his best friend pacing up and down before his desk.

"I can't believe it!" he said loudly, his voice trembling with anger.

Charlie had a look at the motherboard and said: "Yeah. Two hours' work for nothing."

"I mean, who does she think she is? The goddess of ballistics? Should I bow before her or something like that? Does she really believe that shooting guns and rifles and whatever is more important than catching a serial killer whose favorite victims are cops?"

"Jayden, calm down. I don't understand a single thing you say. Just start at the beginning."

"Okay, there's this new case I got. The Chicago sniper", he explained.

Charlie looked at him, his face blank with confusion.

"He's a cop killer", Jayden said.

"Okay."

"And now, it seems as if he continues his assaults in Washington. And I have to stop him."

"Wow. The Origami killer case really put you into the front row, did it?" Charlie said, not sounding as flashed as his friend.

"The guy has already killed two officers in Chicago, so we have no time to waste. But of course, this is not a concern of agent Lauren _Treat me like a beauty pageant winner and I treat you like a sucker _Teason!"

Charlie shook his head and sighed. "Okay, I guess your test shooting didn't go too well, did it?"

"I failed at the moving targets", Jayden said shortly.

"Why?"

"That's not the point. The point is…"

"Why?" Charlie repeated patiently, but forceful.

"A very, very small withdrawal attack. Nothing to worry about."

"Ah. No, why worry? I mean, this small withdrawal attack could have happened in actual combat, where the targets shoot back, but hey", his friend said ironically.

_Or lock you up in your car with the intention to scrap it, _Jayden thought, but quickly cleared the memory out of his mind.

"As I said, that's not the point. The point is that _your _nine refuses to let me repeat it until Monday in two weeks! That means I'm off the case! I have to go to Garland and explain him I cannot investigate because I failed my test shootings!"

"Why don't you talk to her instead? Explain her the situation?"

"I tried! I told her it was important and asked her if she couldn't make an exception, but she just looked at me, as if I was some kind of insect and told me she didn't make any exceptions, not even for _heroes_. That rules are rules."

"Well, I assume you answered in a very calm and reasonable way."

"Hey, it wasn't me who started the "who-is-more-important" comparison! She hated me the very first moment I came in. Just because I thought she was a secretary."

"Yes, of course. Public enemy number one Norman Jayden. Has it ever crossed your mind that she might really just follow the rules?"

"She? No. Never. I tell you, you may get fooled by those aquamarine eyes under the long lashes, but I don't. That bitch is playing all her cards to get what she wants. I bet she only got the job because she slept her way up to the top."

"Actually", a female voice behind them said. "I got the job because I was best at dealing with guns, but well, I admit it seems pretty unlikely."

Charlie's face turned into a rather painful grimace as his eyes fell on the ballistic expert, standing in the door. Norman could feel his cheeks redden and avoided turning around.

The woman, however, kept a remarkable control over her voice. "Charlie, could you probably come over after lunch? I still have trouble with the software on the computer. It's still messing up all the test results."

"Sure, Lauren."

"Thank you", she said and left, closing the door properly as she did.

Charlie raised his eyes to his friend. "Ouch. Well, that was… awkward."

"Lauren?" Jayden asked. "I didn't know you were on first name terms."

"Oh my god, is that your only concern?"

Jayden furrowed his brows.

"Alright, alright, before you suspect another mighty conspiracy against you: apparently, agent Teason prefers to be called by her first name. Everyone I know is calling her Lauren. So, we are not bff's and after what just happened, I guess we'll never be."

"Oh, I'm sorry I ruined your dream girl scenario", Norman said sarcastically.

"You should better be sorry you just ruined your relationship with ballistics. You got a case where a sniper is involved – did you ever think about how to solve this without her support?"

"I don't need her support anymore. She'll send the test results to Garland and bam – I'm off the case and free to bore myself to death. God, I hate people."

"Yeah and you show it off every day", Charlie said.

"What?"

"You're always acting like this was a one man's show. Like all you needed was a pair of glasses."

"Well, they were all I needed to solve the Origami Killer case."

Charlie shook his head. "All I'm saying is: Maybe you wouldn't have so much trouble with the other agents if you would… be a little less defensive towards everybody."

"I'm not defensive", Jayden said, but sounding pretty much like it.

"Oh yes, you are. Always. Even to people who love you. Like Jamie. Are you still avoiding her phone calls?"

Jayden's face turned to a mask immediately. "That's none of your business."

"Norman, it was not her fault you ended in that hospital. And you know that."

"I said: it's none of your business. I'm going back to work."

And with those words, he left his friend's office. Charlie took a deep breath.

"And it's just another manic Monday", he sang to himself, before he turned back to his work.

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Smoking area,_

_2th January 2012, 12:13 p.m._

Agent Lauren Teason knew that according to modern standards, she was called beautiful. And passing the police academy had shown her that beauty was not really an advantage in this career path. There always had been people looking down on her, including professors, other cops, criminals.

Yet, she had never bothered about it, like others. She remembered beautiful Julia Remington, a tall blonde from California, who had passed every single test with a clear A, but had suffered so much under the stupid comments about her that she had even tried to look a little more normal. It hadn't been any use, of course. Neither the glasses, nor the wide clothes had been able to hide her perfect features and everyone had just continued joking about her. She had told Lauren once, under tears, that all she had ever wanted was to become a cop, but that she wasn't sure she could stand it.

And she hadn't. Just a week before the final exams, she had packed her bags and vanished. Lauren had never found out what had happened to her after that. It was a shame. Julia would have become a great cop.

Lauren, instead, had just ignored the comments. Well, at least, most of the time. She had lost her temper once or twice and of course, she had been punished for it, but it also had helped her to build up a very high wall of ignorance towards the topic. Her appearance was neither her fault, nor her accomplishment. It was just genetic.

So, Agent Jayden's comments hadn't really insulted her. They had just rebounded at the wall. Like the two date invitations of other agents last week. Lauren Teason believed in a strict separation of private life and her work.

She searched her coat pocket for the cigarettes and the lighter and eventually, found it. She lit it and memorized Carla's morose look every time she had caught her smoking. Of course, Carla hated it, as a doctor.

Even though Lauren didn't smoke much. Five or six cigarettes on a working day and just one or two on the weekends. There were even weekends when she didn't touch a single one.

Standing in the cold breeze, smoking, she remembered her encounter with agent Jayden, trying to analyze from which moment on it had gone wrong. Actually, she wasn't looking for any trouble.

Probably she had been a little unnerved about being called the secretary again. And probably, she had been a little over the top with the anti-hero sayings. But she didn't believe in heroes. And she didn't believe in making them up. Not that she wanted to play down his work in the Origami Killer case. He had done a very good job. Only, the whole press stuff, the interviews, the talk show, had been too much, in her taste.

She wondered why he hadn't passed the shootings. After the steady targets, she had been pretty sure he would. And no matter what he had said, he had looked paler after the moving targets, as impossible as it seemed. This guy was just terribly pale. Together with the lines under his eyes and the rather bad shave it made him look at least 5 years older than he was.

Catch a cop killer. Well, that sounded like an important case. And another one with a high media echo. She could understand a little why he wanted it. A challenge with a lot of praise waiting at the end. The question only was: was the case important enough to make her bend the rules?

Well, maybe, she wouldn't even have to make the decision. If his superiors wanted him so badly on the case, she'd surely get a call from them. He would feel superior then, of course, but she could deal with that as well. If there was really a sniper involved, he would surely need her one time. And then, she would have the upper hand. And she wasn't afraid to use it. She flicked the cigarette into the ash tray and walked back in.

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Ballistics,_

_2th January 2012, 13:07 p.m._

Charlie had a weakness for beautiful women, like a lot of nerds. The difference only was – he never felt intimated by them. Knowing all he could do was just admire from afar, knowing he never stood a chance, made him feel very comfortable in their presence. He valued them like nice paintings, or good books. Therefore, at college, he had hung out with the most beautiful women at the campus. They had liked him for his funny, unobtrusive behavior. Of course, this had given him the reputation of a homosexual, but he had never bothered. People could think about him whatever they wanted. This was the greatest advantage of his character and it was the reason why people, who thought of Jayden as an arrogant loner, didn't treat him like that as well. They just overlooked him. Sometimes even chit-chatted a little with him.

So, the former times he had entered the ballistics, he had been very lighthearted, even whistling. But thanks to Norman Jayden, this time, he didn't exactly feel like it. Though he hadn't said a single bad word about Lauren, he felt sorry for her. He was sure she hadn't intended to cause Jayden trouble. She hadn't done anything like that to anyone in the past three weeks. And there had been some agents who hadn't passed the first shooting test. None of them had complained in anyway. Maybe the situation could still be fixed. Maybe, if he played the right cards, Lauren would just erase it out of her memory. Good for him and good for Jayden as well. If he really was going to investigate this case, he would surely need Lauren's help one time or another.

And of course, as he entered the ballistics, he already had a plan.

Lauren was sitting at her desk as Charlie came in.

"Hi", he said, trying for a small smile, checking the situation.

"Hi", Lauren replied casually.

"So, let's see what the problem is now", he said and sat down at the chair beneath her, having a quick look at the computer. "Yeah, just as I thought. Still the updates."

"Still? God, how many updates did Catohe miss?" the woman asked in disbelief.

"In the last two years? For three programs? Something around 120, I guess."

"120?"

"Yes. And the trouble is – I can't let them run on one day."

"Great. I cannot always call you – I mean, you got other work to do, don't you? You won't always be available just on time."

"Possible."

She let out a frustrated groan. "That's just perfect."

He looked at her and guessed this was the perfect moment for damage limitation.

"Well, I could show you how to do it yourself. My superiors wouldn't like it much, but well, they don't have to know, do they?"

"Seriously?" Lauren asked.

"Yes. I mean, how many damage can you do, running updates?"

She looked at him closely for some seconds, narrowing her eyes. "How come I have the feeling you want something in return?"

He grinned. "You're quick."

"My father was a diplomat. I know the tricks", she said carelessly.

"Was?" he asked.

_Damn_, she thought, _so much to keep private information private_.

"He's dead", she said shortly.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

She just shrugged her shoulders. "You couldn't know. Besides, my parents are dead for 22 years now."

_Oh great. Continue like that and he'll know your whole life story in less than five minutes_, she swore to herself. But Charlie really had an easy way to talk to. In a way, he reminded her of Timothy. And she had never been able to hide a lot from Timothy, either.

"Car accident?" he asked sympathetic.

"No. Plane crash over Belgium. Why don't you tell me what you want from me, now, so I know if I will be able to do my updates alone the next time?" she said, changing the topic before the damage could get worse.

"Let Jayden repeat the test shooting before the next scheduled appointment", he said.

She stared at him and he could see surprise in her eyes.

"Listen, I know he's been… a little bit stupid today", he gave in.

"Really? I thought he was pretty charming", she said sarcastically.

"But I'm sure he didn't mean it. He was just depressed he failed the shooting", he added, without reacting to her last sentence.

"I had three agents in here that failed, but they didn't call me a bitch."

Charlie sighed. "He's really eager to work again. He probably was just angry at himself."

"Well, I have no intention to end up as a punching bag for personal failures", Lauren stated.

"No, of course not. All I'm asking is that you give him another chance. He's not very… socializing."

"Yes, I realized that", she said and paused, looking at the computer. "Okay, then."

"Really?"

The woman sighed and shook her head. "Yes. Lord knows I'm sick of repeating my daily work, just because Catohe messed up the computer." She looked at him. "Besides, I'm kind of impressed about your request. I thought you would ask me out on a date. Since you call me a nine."

_Perfect. Now I'm already joking with him. Hell, I'm so untouchable._

Charlie smiled. "Ah, no. It would take a ten to make me jump over my shadow."

She furrowed her brow. "Oh, really? And what am I lacking for a ten?"

"You're taller than me."

She nodded her head slightly. "Yes, that's really a critical point."

"I'm glad you agree with me. Ah and one more point: Please don't tell Jayden I asked you to do this. He hates it when I interfere", Charlie said.

Lauren raised an eyebrow, but just replied: "Don't worry. I won't explain my sudden change of mind and I'm pretty sure he won't ask."

"Thanks, that's very nice of you. Now watch carefully. I'm going to give you a private lesson in outsmarting your computer."

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Agent Norman Jayden's office,_

_2th January 2012, 17:24 p.m._

Though Norman Jayden had expected to be called to his superior's office and taken off the case he just had gotten, he had studied the file about the "Chicago sniper" the whole afternoon. Not that there was pretty much to go on from.

The police officers in Chicago had been shot in broad daylight, but nobody had seen anything. The police had been able to identify the buildings the sniper had used, but there had been no clues left. All information this evidence offered was that he was a very good marksman, according to the distance between his shooting positions and the victims.

He even had extended the distance by each victim. He knew he was good, but it was not enough. He wanted to prove it. Self-assured and arrogant, he wanted to show the police what he was able to.

The bullets had been different with every victim as well and the police had assumed he had used a different rifle in all murders.

Jayden remembered his trouble with the new Beretta and raised an eyebrow. This seemed unusual. If a new model could cause him to shoot worse than normally, wouldn't it be the same for rifles? He couldn't tell. He had no experience with them and after what had happened in Charlie's office, he was sure it wouldn't be a good idea to call the ballistics.

He moved on to the information about the cases the policemen had worked on, but there wasn't much about them. All officers had been shot at the day they took the case…  
Which was actually very weird. This meant the killer had known they were after him very early, even before the police had had any clues about his participation. How could he have gotten the information? Had he supervised the police actions from the very start? That would have been a lot of effort.

Or was it possible he had had an informant in the police rows?

Probably it would be a good idea to ask some questions at the department of the Washington police officer… Not that he really expected to find an answer, but it was the best idea right now.

He opened the file again, to make sure he hadn't overlooked anything, as his right hand began to tremble. He looked at it and swallowed hard. As much as he loved the ARI, he feared its side effects. His heartbeat quickened and the uncomfortable feeling of cold sweat in his neck increased the tremor in his hands. He believed he could taste blood on his lips and wiped his left over his nose, just to realize it was bleeding.

Within an instant, the secure, powerful feeling the ARI gave him had changed to panic and anger. Why did he always have to be so inferior? Why couldn't he be like all the others? Why did he always end up in trouble?

He took off the ARI and dug for the tripto in his coat pocket. He had really wanted to stop with this stuff, but it was impossible. He just needed it to go on. But it wasn't really a problem, as long as he kept it low. Yes. One dose a day. It wasn't a great deal, was it? Others took pain medication against the headache every day, that couldn't be healthier, could it?

He took the Triptocaine and immediately, a soft, cozy curtain fell over the symptoms. He took a deep breath and stretched his legs to support the relaxation, his eyes falling on the clock. Almost half past five. No wonder he suffered under the side effects. He had been in the ARI for five hours without taking a break. He really needed to pay more attention to the time. Only, that time didn't seem to exist when he used the ARI. He believed he could spend weeks with it, if it wasn't for the side effects. When he wore the glasses, he felt in control of everything. Centered in a perfect order.

Still, it was no use. He needed to stop for today. After all, there wasn't much more he could do. He put the ARI back in his pocket and shut down the computer. Since he had the ARI, he just used it to write his reports. He never did any research with it.

Just as he put on his coat, the phone rang. He looked at the display. _Ballistics._

"Oh, fuck", he swore, then answered the call. "Norman Jayden?" he said, trying to sound matter-of-factly.

"Ballistics", Lauren replied shortly. "If you're still interested in repeating the test shooting, I could give you an appointment for tomorrow morning, 7. a.m."

"7 a.m. tomorrow?" Jaden asked, all the coolness washed out of his voice.

"Well, the early bird catches the worm. Or is this a problem?" Lauren asked back, her voice ironical.

"No, no… That's fine by me."

"Great. Don't let me wait", she said and hung up.

He stared at the display, the speaker still at his ear, for a second unsure this had really happened. Why the hell had she changed her mind? Had she been ordered to? Or did she expect him to fail again and couldn't wait to see it?

Well, whatever reason she had, he would take the tripto tomorrow morning right before he went to work. Just to be prepared. Just in case.

_Alright, enough now with the introduction. Time some bullets fly in Washington D.C. _


	3. Bang Bang

**Chapter Three: Bang Bang**

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Ballistics,_

_3th January 2012, 06:42 a.m._

Winter had finally laid it claws around Washington D.C. The cold breeze had announced it yesterday and finally, snow covered the streets and buildings in white curtains.

Lauren hung up her black coat and rubbed her hands to avoid the tingly feeling, caused by the temperature change.

Just as she sat down and turned on the computer, the door was opened.

"Good morning", a calm, male voice said.

She turned her head and, seeing Special Agent Garland in the office, stood up.

"Good morning, sir", she replied.

She had met him only once before, for probably two minutes, as he had introduced himself to her.

He was the perfect image of a FBI guy. Tall, vigilante and always hold back.

"So, you made it through the snow", he said.

"The snow-clearing service is fast."

He nodded his head slightly. "Have you already adapted to the work here?"

"Yes. The technology is really… overwhelming. Compared to the police'."

"Well, being a police officer is a very hard job, but compared to our work, it's rather relaxing. You'll see that, soon", Garland said with a patronizing smile.

Lauren successfully fought the wish to frown at him. He had never been a cop, that was for sure.

"But coming to the reason I visited…" he said and held up the file in his right hand.

"Your first case", he continued. "The Chicago sniper."

He laid the file on her desk. "This case has absolute priority. Everything else can wait and will wait. I expect you to read the file carefully. The smallest detail may be important. And whenever there is work for the ballistics, I expect it to be done immediately. No matter what hour. No matter if you had other plans."

"Of course, sir", Lauren replied.

"Since you've been a cop, you surely know how important it is we catch that bastard. We cannot allow such guys to run around and shoot at us. That would be like calling out anarchy."

"Yes, sir", she said.

_Wow. Now he's clearly over the top_, she thought to herself.

"The profiler on this case is Agent Jayden. I believe you met him yesterday", Garland said matter-of-factly.

"Yes."

"And let him fail the test shootings."

Lauren raised an eyebrow in surprise. "How can you know that? I didn't send the test results."

The edge of his lips turned into a small smile. "Nothing in my section happens without my knowing."

"Well, if you came to order me to give him a new appointment, it's unnecessary. I already did."

"Ah. No. No. I know that, as well. But, speaking about it… I know how police officers work. How… _familiar_ their relationships with their partners are. You need to know that the FBI regards this as inefficient. We do not pay attention to personal likes or dislikes. We build a team considering skills and expect nothing but productive cooperation. From everyone. Are we clear on that?"

She looked at him; his stern, grey eyes focused on her and realized suddenly that she started to dislike him.

"Yes, sir."

She was rewarded with another one of his strange, half smiles, then he walked out of her office.

Lauren sighed and shook her head. She had applied for the FBI because she had needed a change of climate. Yet, she hadn't expected it to turn out arctic. Compared to this fellow, agent Jayden really appeared charming. She turned back to the computer and wanted to sit down, as the door to her office opened again. For a second, she was sure it was Garland with another _warm welcome to the FBI _order, but as she looked over her shoulder, she saw Jayden coming in.

"Hi", he said simply.

She looked at her watch. 6.58 a.m. "You're too early", she replied.

"Oh. Shall I go out again and come back in two minutes?" he asked ironically.

_Smartass,_ she thought immediately, though she admitted her line hadn't been a perfect start in the day.

"No. You weren't the first and surely won't be the last to interrupt my work today. Let's get over with it."

Ten minutes later, Jayden took off the ear protection. "Did I pass?"

"Yes. Congratulations", she said absent-minded. "But promise me to try and be a little more careful with the gun. It's expensive."

She raised her eyes, awaiting a stupid comment from him, but he clearly hadn't listened. He put the gun in his holster, a small smile on his lips. For a second, he looked younger, more his age, but the smile vanished in an instant.

"Thank you", he said seriously. "For making the exception. I mean, you didn't have to, after yesterday…"

Lauren waved her hand. "It's fine. After all, I'm pretty sure someone would have ordered me to let you repeat it. They want you badly. Still, I'd be delighted if you would not tell anybody. I don't want the other agents to think I favor some people."

"No. No. I won't. Though I can guarantee you, nobody will ever think you favor me."

"Wow. So you're just famous outside the building, are you?"

Jayden didn't reply. Together, they walked back to her office and his eyes fell on the folder on her desk.

"A case?" he asked.

"Your case", she replied. "The Chicago sniper."

He looked at her for a second. "And? What do you think about him?"

"Nothing", Lauren said calmly.

Puzzled, he stood silent.

"Special Agent Garland gave me the file half an hour ago. I had no chance to read it till now", she explained.

"I see. I'm going to talk to the last victim's colleagues today."

She grinned wryly. "Well, they'll surely be happy about it."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Their happiness is none of my business. All I want is to catch the killer."

Lauren rolled her eyes. "God, you FBI agents really know how to push it over the edge, do you?"

"You're an agent, too", he reminded her.

"Yes, but I was a cop one day. I know how they feel."

"Really? So, how do they feel?"

"Frustrated. Angry. One of them has been shot. They want to catch the bastard desperately. But they are not allowed to. Instead, they need to justify their behavior to someone in a suit who treats them like inferior creatures. How would you feel in such a situation?"

"Well, thanks for the advice. I'll keep it in mind", he said and left the office.

"Yeah. For sure", Lauren muttered sarcastically, then sat down and opened the file.

_Washington police department, _

_9__th__ precinct,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_3th January 2012, 08:52 a.m._

Norman Jayden had come to the conclusion that the police liked to make him wait. Whenever he entered a police station, a secretary told him to take place somewhere until the Lieutenant or Captain was ready to talk to him.

And of course, today was not an exception. Today, he was waiting for Captain Arnold Suther, who seemed to believe that answering a call of the press was more important than talking to the ones investigating the case.

Jayden fought the impulse to go for a little ARI time. He needed to minimize the time he spent with it, using it only to work. But it was just so compelling. Instead of just sitting here and returning the glances the officers shot him; he could just take it out of his pocket and lock the normal world out.

Just as the temptation won him over, the door to the captain's office opened and Suther came out. He was a tall, bully man with grey hair and piercing blue eyes.

"You wanted to talk to me?" he asked, his voice clean and military.

Jayden stood up. "Yes, sir."

The man nodded and walked back into his office, the agent following him.

"Sit down", Suther said shortly. "I don't have much time, so, make it quick."

_Oh great. Now that's a really promising start._

"Captain Suther, I'm agent Jayden…"

"From the FBI, yeah. Spare me the introduction. I know who you are. Though I don't know what you're doing here. We sent all our reports to the FBI. There's nothing more anyone could tell you."

"Yes, I have read the reports. And they were really… detailed", he said, trying to sound likeable.

_My god. Agent Teason would surely be proud of me,_ he thought ironically.

"But something's weird about it", he continued.

"Weird? It's not weird; it's a god damn disgrace! Officer Cooper was a good cop. He did not deserve to be attacked without a warning by a fucking coward", Suther stated angrily.

"Yes, of course not", Jayden said, trying to stay calm and reasonable, but the man's open anger clearly repelled him. "But don't you think it is strange that he was murdered on the same day he got the case?"

"Well, obviously the bastard has been watching us, probably for days."

"Or maybe, he might have been informed."

Suther narrowed him. "Are you saying that there's a mole in my precinct, agent Jayden?" His voice was dangerously low.

"I'm just including all possibilities", he replied quietly.

"I know everyone working in this precinct, agent Jayden. I know their strengths, I know their weaknesses. I call everyone in once a year for a personal conversation. Every cop here is a loyal defender of the law. Every secretary here is quiet and trustworthy. Your suspicion is unjustified and arrogant and I take it as an insult, not only against the police itself, but against me in personal."

"I'm sorry you see it that way", Jayden said calmly. "But nevertheless, I will talk to everyone who knew Officer Cooper got the case."

"You talked to me. I think that is enough", Captain Suther said and stood up. "Now excuse me. I promised Officer Cooper's young widow to meet her this morning."

And he walked out of the door.

Jayden swore silently, then followed him on step.

"You need to tell me who else knew about it, Captain."

"Oh, really? What if I don't? You come back with a court order?" Suther asked back sarcastically.

"I don't need a court order. You know that, in this case, you must cooperate with the FBI."

Suther grinned wryly. "Cooperation. Don't make me laugh. This is a dictatorship. But even if I told you who was informed, you'd still have come in vain. They are both on sick leave, because Cooper's death was such a shock to them." He looked at Jayden. "So, you're still convinced they are involved in this?"

"Who are they?" Jayden asked, without answering the question.

Suther laughed shortly. "There's really no loyalty in the FBI, is there? Miss Kate Fender. She was Cooper's typist. And Officer Carlos Campillo. They were best friends. They talked about everything."

They walked out of the entrance and Suther stopped, turning at him. "Now that you got what you wanted, get out of my precinct. And believe me, if I hear you bother my people, I'll get you for it. FBI or not, you're not fooling me around. Understood?"

Jayden looked at him, unable to control the anger any longer. He just wanted to reply in the same attacking tone, as the shot fell. Both men turned their gazes towards the street, where the officer standing only meters away from them, smoking a cigarette, sank down to the pavement.

Immediately, Suther and Jayden knelt down. A woman's scream blasted through the air as they drew their guns, looking around hastily, trying to find the shooter. Cars stopped on the street, people ran bewildered in any direction, waiting for another shot. But there was none.

The captain hurried over to the officer, Jayden right after him. The bullet had hit him directly in the head and his glassy eyes starred at the grey sky without seeing.

_Washington police department, _

_9__th__ precinct,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_3th January 2012, 11:04 a.m._

Lauren parked her car a little away from the yellow police line and the already waiting reporters. God, how she hated them. They were like rats storming a buffet.

She got out of the car and tried to make her way through them unnoticed. Luckily, they were fighting with each other for the best picture and didn't pay much attention to their surroundings. She showed her badge to the police officer before the police line and went through. The dead officer had already been covered with the usual white shroud. She knelt down and lifted it carefully, so the reporters couldn't use the moment to take a picture. The bullet had entered his head right between his eyes. Impressive. She raised her head to scan the buildings further away, as she heard a sharp voice say:

"I don't give a fuck if this is my division or not! Another one of my men is dead! How much damage can we do, searching for a fitting rooftop 800 meters away?"

"This is a FBI case! You will not mingle with the investigation!" she could hear the reply from a familiar voice. She shook her head and sighed. Obviously, her advices weren't worth paying attention to. Lauren stood up and walked over to Jayden and the captain of the station. Both were so busy shouting at each other that she had a quick look at the captain's badge. Suther. Well, he looked firm and old-school. And according to his anger heated face, he was very short to explode.

"This conversation is over! I'm sending my men now!" Suther said angrily.  
"Do that! It will cost you your badge", Jayden replied.

"I think it is a good idea. The more men we got, the sooner we will find the shooting point", Lauren said calmly.

Both men fell silent. But while Captain Suther stared at her, baffled by her agreement, Jayden shot her a deadly glance.

"Well, I'm glad the FBI sent at least one person with common sense", he said. "Whoever you are."

Lauren fetched her badge and showed it to him. "Teason. Ballistics", she said calmly.

He raised an eyebrow doubtfully, but made no comment about it. "So, can I send my men now?"

"No", Jayden said immediately.

"Yes", Lauren said.

Suther looked at them. "Well, I suppose this is more a matter of the ballistics, so I'll stick with the yes." And he dashed off, yelling orders as he did.

"What the hell are you doing?" Jayden said angrily. "His men will trample all over the place and destroy all the clues!"

"I clearly doubt that", Lauren replied calmly.

"Damn it! I'll make you responsible if we miss evidence just because you love the police so much!"

"You know why I'm fine with that?" she asked.

"No. Maybe because you don't seem to care for anything?" he asked angrily.

"No. Because I know the distance he used is limited to no more than 500 meters."

"Have you even bothered to read the case file?" Jayden asked, his voice loathing.

"Yes."

"Well, then you might remember that the "Chicago sniper" always shot from distances above 800 meters!"

Lauren looked at him. "For how long do you live here, Jayden?"

"What the hell does this matter?"

"Do you know what the difference is between Washington and most of other US cities?" she asked sweetly.

He groaned with frustration. "God, just say it!"

"There are no multi-story buildings. I think, if I remember it right, no building in this city is higher than 160 feet. About 20 floors. So, to assure he was shooting under equal conditions, he will have reduced the distance to balance it with the height of the building."

"And you're sure about this?"

"Don't question my skills and I won't question yours", she relied calmly.

Norman looked at her, then nodded his head. "Alright. So, we're looking for a high building 500 meters away. Great. That doesn't really limit the choice."

"We're looking for an empty building. New built or currently renovated."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "I think there was an office building up the road which had a sale sign on the front. It could fit the distance."

"I'm ready when you are", Lauren replied.

"I am. There's nothing to gain here anymore."

"Fine. I'll get my car. Be ready to drive up", she said.

Ten minutes later, Norman parked his car right in front of the office building. He looked in the rear view mirror, seeing Lauren parking her car behind his. A black mustang with beige leather seats. He would have bet she would drive something more… modern, though the car looked very neat and quite fashionable.

He got out of his car and waited while she opened her trunk and took out a briefcase.

"What's in there?" he asked as she caught up to him.

"A rifle. What else?" she replied calmly and looked up the building. "Yes, this could fit."

"There's someone at the reception. Let's give it a try."

Lauren nodded and followed him. The guy on the reception was pretty young, around his early twenties. He held a book in his hands. _Advanced mathematics._

As he heard their footsteps, he looked up.

"Welcome", he said with a rather bored expression in his voice. "How can I help you?"

Jayden fetched his badge. "I'm agent Jayden from the FBI and this is agent Teason. We'd like to ask you some questions."

"Has this something to do with the police officer who has been shot this morning? I got out on the street immediately after I heard the sirens. Man, that's crazy."

"Is there anybody in the building except you?" Norman asked.

"No. No. I'm the only one around here. It's a student job. The renovation was finished two weeks ago, except for some minor details and the owning company searched for someone caring for the reception and give info flyers to prospective customers."

"And do many people come in here?"

"No. No. One a day. Maybe two. But usually in the afternoon. I never had any customer in the morning."

"Did you leave the reception this morning except for the one time you dashed out on the streets?"

The man shrugged his shoulders. "Sure. Bought me a coffee. And a newspaper. Around eight." Suddenly, he seemed to understand. "Wait – you think he shot from here?"

"It's a possibility."  
"Oh shit. I'm done for it if that's true."

Jayden could see how Lauren rolled her eyes. "Well, we need to take a look around. How do we get on the rooftop?"

"You can ride the elevators to the 18th floor. At the right end of the corridor is a fire exit, it leads up to the roof top. You really think…"

"Any cameras installed?"

The student shook his head. "No. That's one of the minor details that haven't been finished."

"Thanks", Jayden said and stepped back, heading for the elevator.

As they got in, Lauren said: "No cameras, a student not paying attention – I guess we're on the right track."

"This was perfectly planned", Jayden agreed. "The only question is: why."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, if Captain Suther hasn't been lying to me, there's no connection between the death of Officer Cooper and Officer Livingston. They had nothing common. Cooper was in heroin dealings; Livingston was working on a project for young drug addicts. No private or working relationship. They hardly knew each other. Livingston just moved here from Pennsylvania."

"Heroine dealings and young drug addicts. A working connection is really unlikely. Cooper was a tough cookie, Livingston was taking it easy. That's a large abyss at a vice department", Lauren said.

Jayden raised an eyebrow. "Are you speaking out of experience?"

"Now don't tell me you haven't used your fancy glasses to analyze me", Lauren said as the elevator held. They stepped out.

"You know about them?" Jayden asked while they made their way to the rooftop.

"There was a short presentation about it on the academy. The FBI seems thrilled about it."

"It's… useful", he agreed hesitatingly. "Though sadly, the personal files of other FBI agents are locked. Even if I analyzed a fingerprint of you, I'd know no more than I'd know by looking at your badge."

"Now that's a relief", she said and opened the door of the fire exit.

"So, you've been a vice cop?"

"Some time ago."

"Any other departments?"

She smiled slightly, then opened the door to the roof.

Both had a quick look over it, then Lauren said: "Well, now that's really a good place for a sniper."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to search for clues before you move around", he said, awaiting an argument. But she shook her head.

"Fine by me. I need to get the rifle ready anyway."

She laid the briefcase on the floor and took the rifle out, while he put on the ARI and searched the rooftop for evidence. But there was nothing. No fingerprints. No remnants.

Frustrated, he walked back to her. "Nothing. Like on the other crime scenes."

She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. "You know, you look a little bit like Neo with these glasses, do you?"

He took them off and put them in his pocket. "Yeah. Call me _The One_ from now on."

"I don't think we're already close enough for pet names", she replied fast.

Jayden frowned at her while she lifted the rifle. He should take a picture for Charlie. He would probably print it as a poster and stick it in his locker. Women with guns seemed strangely attracting to him.

"What kind of model is this?" he asked.

"M40. The model for Marines and S.W.A.T", she replied and walked over the rooftop, searching for the balustrade with the right angle. Finally, she knelt down and adjusted the rifle.

"Yes. He shot from here", she said.

Jayden walked over and knelt down beneath her, looking over her shoulder. "You're sure about it?"

"Of course I'm sure", Lauren replied and laid down the rifle. "This guy is really, really good. He's been trained, probably in the Marine Corps or a foreign military service. He used the flag on the police building to calculate the wind."

"If only the cameras were already installed. Then we would have at least one clue."

"Maybe the bullet analysis will tell us something", she said and stood up, walking back to the briefcase, putting the rifle back in it.

"You're done?" Jayden asked.

"Yes. Let's go back."

Silently, they rode the elevator down. The student looked up at them, obviously eager to know whether he was in trouble or not, but none of them cared telling him. They just walked out and Lauren packed the briefcase back in her trunk. She closed it and fetched her cigarettes out of her coat pocket.

"You're smoking?" Jayden asked, sounding surprised.

"You want one?" she asked back, holding the package out to him. "You look like you could need it."

He shook his head. "I never smoked."

"Never? Not even in your wild phase at high school?"

"I didn't have a wild phase at high school", he said evadingly.

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into an amused grin. In the same moment, his cell phone rang.

He looked at the display. _Jamie calling_.

Without hesitation, he shut it down like always. A call from her was the last thing he needed now.

"Being famous has its disadvantages, doesn't it?" she asked.

"Sorry?"

She pointed at the phone. "Like unpleasant admirers."

"It's not what you think", he said reserved.

"No, of course not."

Norman raised his hands defensively. "Listen..."

"God, Jayden, I was just joking. It's not like I mattered." She shook her head. "Anyway, as soon as I analyzed the bullet, I'll give you a call."

"Yeah. If I'm still in charge", he replied, focusing his eyes on the street.

"Why wouldn't you be?" Lauren asked surprised.

"Maybe because a police officer was shot right under my eyes?"

"Holy Christ. The killer is a sniper. How should you have hindered it? Shoot him with your Beretta over 500 meters? No way."

"Hmh", he said, not sounding convinced.

"You know, I'm the ballistic expert. Try and start trusting my statements." And she threw the cigarette on the street.

"That's ten dollars if a police officer catches you", he reminded her.

"Thanks for the advice", she replied and opened her car. "If you care for an advice as well, I'd watch my back if I were you."

Norman looked at her. "Why?"

"Come on. You said it yourself. Officer Livingston had no connection to the other victim. He didn't have a connection to the case. This was clearly a warning shot, Jayden. Telling everybody mingling in to stay out of the killer's way."

"Well, you can order me a bullet-proof vest, can't you?"

She frowned at him and opened the driver's door, sitting down. "Yes. Great idea, considering this sniper shot all his victims in the head."

_A/N: I'm not going to pretend I know how snipers work. Since this is a fan fiction, I'm not going to do as much as research as I do with my original fiction. I must confess, I basically fell over the information about limited heights of buildings in Washington, as I was looking up the salary of agents and possible living areas. So, I apologize if my description of the shooting sucks. I really tried to keep it logically. _

_Besides, I just realized that this piece of fan fiction is getting rather long, considering all the notes I already took on the storyline. If I keep on, of course._


	4. Talk, Talk, Talk

**Chapter 4: Talk, Talk, Talk**

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Forensic_

_3th January 2012, 13:11 p.m._

Doctor Leland Ambert never pitied the dead. He had been a doctor and coroner for 25 years now, and never, not once, had he felt emotionally overwhelmed, or disgusted by the brutality of death. He had seen all forms of death – shot, drowned, strangled, poisoned, stabbed -; he had seen dead children, abused women, tortured men. People he didn't know. Agents he knew. But none of them had ever haunted him at night.

Nevertheless, he hated being the coroner. It was dumb work. Cutting people open, extracting the bullet, finding the cause of death… It was so easy. No challenge.

Yet, special agent Garland refused to let him out of it, so instead of concentrating on his research, he had to spend his precious time with the dead. Garland always wanted the best people for his section and if he had them, he locked them up in a golden cage and swallowed the key.

And that was the reason why Leland felt only one thing when another corpse arrived – frustration. Like now, as he extracted the bullet out of Officer Livingston's skin. At least, this examination had been over fast.

Just as he went to the water basin to wash his hands, the door to the forensic opened.

He looked up. "Agent Teason", he said calmly. He had been the one in charge for her medical examination, which had been no better than his present work. Nothing about her had been special, even if some agents would contradict him on that, considering her looks. Not that beauty caught his eyes. Or mind. He only checked the physical condition, stated she was just a little bit too slender and noted her fit for service. She was like all the others. Alright, the psychological profile had caught him for a moment, but then again, it wasn't as special as he had hoped. There were more agents in this bureau with a difficult, haunting past.

"I just came down to ask if you have already been able to extract the bullet", she said calmly.

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, I have. If you had been a little more patient, you wouldn't have needed to come down here", he snarled.

"I apologize", Lauren said, wondering if there was at least one friendly person in this whole building. Except Charlie Stephens.

She watched the grey haired doctor walk over to a little desk, fetching a plastic bag.

"There you go", he said and gave it to her.

"Thank you", she replied. "I assume the shot was deadly?"

"The chances you stand up and walk around after being shot in the head are very low, agent", Ambert said.

"Thanks for your help, _doctor_", she said with a slight hint of irony in her voice.

"Always a pleasure", he replied, the expression telling he thought exactly the opposite.

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Agent Norman Jayden's office_

_3th January 2012, 15:34 p.m._

Normally, Norman was very careful with the ARI. When he didn't use it, he checked if it was still in his pocket at least once in an hour. When he was chasing suspects, he always paid attention not to lose it on the way. But as he took it off now, he almost threw it on the desk.

_Shit._

He had just examined the little evidence he had caught at the crime scene – Officer Livingston's file, his cases, the statement of a woman and a man present as the shot had fallen – and it had led him nowhere. Two and an half hour wasted, which meant his only leads were the secretary and the best friend of Officer Cooper, right now.

He sighed and leant back in the chair, his right leg jiggling nervously. This case turned out as a nightmare with nothing but dead ends.

He looked at the watch on the computer. 15.37 p.m. No news from the ballistics, so for the moment, he had nothing to do. He doubted it would be a good idea to visit Kate Fender and Carlos Campillo right after another one of their colleagues had been shot.

Right under his eyes.

Of course he knew that agent Teason was right. He couldn't have hindered it. Nevertheless, it made him feel unworthy, like usual. He blamed himself a lot of times when things went wrong. Real life was just so complicated. It needed so much attention. People were so complicated. He had always had trouble communicating with them, held back by a mistrust he had learnt in his own childhood. He observed people very carefully, trying not to deepen any contacts before he was sure he had figured them out. He realized, of course, that this made him look reserved and probably even arrogant, but he had no means to change his behavior. Whenever he had opened up to somebody, it hadn't ended well. Jamie, for example, had listened to him, replying with so much care, only to make sure he ended in that fucking hospital. She had tried to apologize afterwards. She had wanted him to understand that she had only done it because she had been so worried.

Well, thanks a lot. Sharing 30 days with all these deranged and mentally ill people had really been a blast.

After this, Charlie Stephens had become the only person Jayden trusted, at least most of the time and the only one he told the truth. Half of it.

Sometimes, he wondered why Charlie hadn't already abandoned him as well. Except of one drink in a week, he never went out. He didn't share Charlie's interests for football, or computers, or anything else. Most of the time, they only talked about the work. But still, Charlie called him for lunch break or tried to persuade him to go to an art exhibition. He was the active part in this friendship, so much was for sure.

He sighed and stood up. He couldn't just sit around here. Maybe he should go down to the cafeteria and get himself a coffee. He could have a quick look to the ballistics by doing that, see if the analyze had already given a hint, even if it was just a small one.

He put the ARI in his pocket – he never left it unwatched, not even in his office – and walked down to the cafeteria. On a table on the right sat a group of four agents, each of them drinking a coffee, talking about the weekend. One of them had a look at him as he entered, but just turned to the group again, without greeting him.

He got himself a coffee and wanted to walk out, but hesitated. Probably, he should get one for Lauren, as well. Considering the events of yesterday, she had handled today's cooperation a lot more indifferently than he thought she would. He had already prepared himself for a rocky working relationship with her, but she didn't seem to be begrudging.

He went back to the coffee machine and ordered a second one, knowing he would feel uncomfortable giving it to her. He hoped she wouldn't interpret too much into it.

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Ballistics_

_3th January 2012, 15:46 p.m._

Lauren's full concentration was drawn at the computer as Jayden walked in. She had a quick look over her shoulder, then turned back to the computer.

"I told you I'd call you as soon as the analyze is finished", she said neutrally.

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to check if you already found something. I'm a little bit… stuck."

"Not much", she replied.

He waited for her to continue, but she was fixed on reading something, so he walked up to her, putting the coffee on the table.

"I got you a coffee", he said.

Finally, the woman turned around and looked at him. He tried to read her expression, but effortless. The blue eyes were perfectly blank.

"Thank you", she said. "But I never drink coffee."

"Never?" he asked surprised.

"Never."

He stared at her. "How do you make it through the day?"

"Black tea", she said. "Maybe you should offer it to Charlie. I'm pretty sure he won't refuse." And she turned back at the computer.

He risked a look over the shoulder and furrowed his eyebrow at the Arabian letters. "You can read Arabian?"

"Well, one should know his roots, shouldn't he?" Lauren asked carelessly.

"I thought you had someone South American in your family", he admitted.

"I'm sorry. No Hispanic fire in my veins."

"Israeli?"

"Egypt. My mother was from Egypt", she said absent-minded. "And before you ask, my parents died on a plane crash over Belgium in 1988, when I was ten years old. So please, spare me the condolences."

"I didn't intend to... I mean… I know how this is. Bearing the pity of others for… something like that. My mother died when I was 22."

_Wait a minute – did I just really say that?_ he thought and regretted it immediately.

Lauren looked at him. "I really don't think there's the need to share our life stories, is there?"

"No. No. Of course not", he replied, relieved by her statement.

"Anyway, there's something I can tell you about this bullet right now. It's been shot out of an Arabian rifle, mostly used in the Iran. This sniper has very good contacts and is amazingly flexible. The differences between this rifle and American models are significant." She closed the document on screen and stood up.

"Nevertheless, I would wait for the final report if I was you. Maybe there'll be something else helping you out."

"Yes, of course", he said and took the two coffee cups before he walked out of the door.

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Section for technical support 1.3,_

_3th January 2012, 16:22 p.m._

There were days in life when you regretted you had set your feet out of your bed. And this snowy Tuesday was one of them, at least to Charlie. The day had been filled with desperate calls from other employees who had had a problem with their printer, computer, bugs… He had seen his own desk for probably half an hour the whole day, always dashing off to the next crucial technical error. Right now, he was just fetching a back-up cd in his office as Jayden came in.

"Busy?" he asked.

Charlie turned around. "Oh. Hey."

Norman looked at him, holding out the coffee. "Care for one?"

"Wow. Did you really just bring me a coffee? I need to remember this day."

"Obviously, your nine doesn't drink coffee", he replied.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Are you trying to make up for your behavior yesterday?"

"You told me I shouldn't fuck up with ballistics, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did. I'm just surprised you listened to my advice", Charlie said and eventually, found the right CD. "Gotcha. Listen, I'm really out of time at the moment. Maybe we should have a drink tonight? 8 p.m., Rick's bar, like always?"

Jayden shrugged his shoulders. "Fine by me. I don't have a lead to go on, right now."

"Great. I need to hurry. Something's wrong with Garland's computer and I have to prevent him from throwing it out of the window."

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Agent Norman Jayden's office_

_3th January 2012, 17:54 p.m._

It had been a long time since Norman Jayden's office had looked so tidied up. After Charlie had practically stormed off, he had gone back. He had thought of doing some research on Arabian rifles, but was pretty sure Lauren had already done that. Not mentioning he knew nothing about rifles. After that, he had searched for something to busy him except the ARI and by that, had decided to sort his paper files (though he never used them) and rearrange everything on his desk so the room would look a little less… messy.

It had been boring, of course, but at least, it had busied him until 17:30 p.m. Without any news from the ballistics, he had finally given up fighting the temptation and had taken the ARI out of his pocket and was throwing the ball at the brick wall for almost half an hour now.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in", he said, not bothering to stop the game.

Lauren Teason entered, a sheet of paper in her hand. He threw the ball one last time and caught it, before he took the ARI off. The woman raised an eyebrow. "Well now, that didn't look like work."

He ignored her comment. "You're done?" he asked.

"Yes", she said and walked over, giving him the file. "But I fear you already know everything. Except the bullet, there's nothing special about the shot."

Jayden grimaced. "Great. So we're back at the start."

"I'm going to reread the ballistic reports from Chicago tomorrow, though I doubt it will be any use."

"Well, I guess I have no choice but paying Miss Fender and Officer Campillo a short visit tomorrow", he said.

"Who's that?"

"The only two persons that knew Officer Livingston had a new case. His typist and best friend."

"You think they might know something?" she asked doubtfully.

"Officer Livingston was shot on the same day as he got the case. Don't you think this is rather weird?"

Lauren narrowed him. "You think one of them gave the information to the sniper?"

"Well, it's more likely than assume he watched the precinct over days."

"He watched the building he shot from over days, as well."

"Still. They might be related in this. Corrupt police members are not so unusual, are they?"

"Probably not. But usually, they don't endanger the lives of their colleagues", Lauren replied, her voice edgy. "It happens, sometimes, but only when there's a threat against a family member, or lover, or friend. We all can end up in such a situation."

"I doubt that. As long as you make reasonable choices, it can't happen."

She grinned wryly. "Oh yes, you're Mister Untouchable, are you? Anyways, I'm leaving." And she walked out. Jayden sighed and put the ARI pack in his pocket. Well, there was no reason for him to stay either. He shut down the computer and took his coat.

_Rick's bar,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_3th January 2012, 20:05 p.m._

Rick's bar was a small place located near to the city museum of Washington. The owner was a tall, bald headed, passionate motor biker who looked intimidating on first sight, but was actually a very polite fellow, knowing whom of his guests liked small talk and whom rather drank their beer in solemn silence. As Jayden entered the bar, Rick greeted him with a quick wave of his hand, then continued to clean the bar. He searched for Charlie and found him on a table in the lower right corner, a computer magazine in his hands. He still wore the faded blue jeans and the striped shirt.

He walked over to his friend and sat down. Charlie put the magazine away.

"You're late", he stated.

"Five minutes."

"I really don't get it, Jayden. You're always on time in the office, but you're never on time when we meet in the bar. I'd forgive you, if you had spruced yourself up, but obviously, you didn't", he said, frowning at his suit.

"Why would I? I'm not dating Eva Longoria, am I?"

Rick came over to them. "Hey guys. Haven't seen you in a while. Thought you'd abandoned me for one of this fancy new bars in the college district", he said. "What can I get you?"

"A beer, like always, Rick", Charlie said.

"Vodka", Jayden added.

Rick nodded and went back behind the bar.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Bad day?"

"You didn't hear it?" his friend asked back.

"All I heard today were curses over computers, printers and whatever."

"Well, I was at the police department, to ask the captain some questions. And just as I was about to leave, another officer was shot, right underneath my eyes. He was standing only meters away from me."

"Are you serious?" Charlie asked, eyes wide open.

"Yeah."

Rick brought the drinks and both of them took a sip.

"Man, you got a specific rest-life insurance policy, don't you?"

"He didn't shoot at me. Though Lauren Teason gave me the great advice to watch my back from now on."

"You told her that was useless, did you? You're too good in finding trouble."

"Hey, I'd be glad without it. It just always finds me."

Charlie looked at him doubtfully. "So, Lauren was at the crime scene, too?"

"Of course she was."

"And? Did she kick your ass for yesterday?"

Jayden shook his head. "No. Actually, I doubt she mattered about it. She seems very… indifferent."

"Or maybe, she's nicer than you thought."

He shrugged his shoulders. "She's good in her work. That's all that matters to me."

"Yes, of course", Charlie frowned at him. "Coming back to the dating… How many chicks did you hook up after your sudden fame?"

"I'm not a movie star, Charlie", he replied unnerved.

"You saved a kid. Don't tell me this doesn't work for women."

"Probably it does, but I didn't want to spoil women's romantic dream of Federal agents. Besides, I didn't want to read an article in the press discussing my pants."

Charlie grinned. "You know, most agents wouldn't have given a damn."

"Yeah, but I do. I don't think this is the perfect job for a long lasting relationship. I just wouldn't have the time for a girlfriend."

"Not mentioning the complication with the ARI and the Triptocaine. You couldn't hide that from a woman."

"Can't you leave this topic for once?" he asked.

"I'm just worried about you. I mean, you don't want to end up in that hospital again, do you?"

"No! That's why I stopped using the Triptocaine", he said.

It was a lie, of course. He had used one dose this morning, for the test shooting. But it had been an exception.

"You could stop with the ARI, the same. And don't tell me you need it to solve the cases. You're clever, Jayden. I mean, you got all the passed exams as a proof."

"There are a lot of people who pass exams, Charlie", he said evadingly.

"Oh, come on. I know why you're so drawn to these god damn glasses. Because you feel like, as long as you use them, you can't fail. But it's not so bad to fail sometimes. It gives you the possibility to rethink your actions and goals."

Jayden shook his head. "Charlie, we've talked about this a hundred times. You just don't understand. You can't understand. I told you I'm more careful using it. Can't you just leave it by that?"

Slowly, Charlie nodded. "Alright. But I still think you should call Jamie back. You punish her too hard. And she loves you so much."

"I need more time."

"It's been over a year now! She's really unhappy."

His friend looked at him. "You talked to her?"

"Well, she called me when you were in your holidays. I couldn't just hang up."

"Oh, great. Now she's already spying after me?"

"God damn it, she misses you! She's really, really sorry."

Jayden emptied his glass and laid the money on the table.

"Well, she should have thought about it before she betrayed me", he said angrily and stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"Home. This conversation is busting my balls."

Charlie watched him leave and took a deep breath, shaking his head.

_A/N: I think it's time to lift the secret about Jamie, don't you agree?_


	5. Visits

**Chapter 5: Visits**

_Kate Fender's apartment,_

_West Virginia Avenue,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_4th January 2012, 09:30 a.m._

Average. Yes, average was the most fitting word for Kate Fender. Average height, average weight, average face. She was dressed completely in black, her eyes puffy and red. Her hands were clutched around the coffee cup. Norman watched her closely, while her gaze was focused on her shoes.

"It's a nightmare", she said, her voice timid. "I can't believe it's true. First Cooper… and now Livingston…" She looked up for an instant. "How can this happen?"

"Miss Fender, I understand that you are upset, but I assure you, the FBI is doing its best to catch the killer."

"Captain Suther… Captain Suther said you were at the police department as Livingston died. If the FBI really does its best, how could he die, then?"

Norman withstood the urge to look away. "We have just started with the investigation. At the moment, the killer is one step ahead of us. But as soon as we have analyzed all the evidence, we'll catch up. But we need your help, Miss Fender. Please try to remember the day as Officer Cooper got his new case. Was there… anything special, or weird happening on that day? Something unusual?"

She shook her head immediately. "No, nothing. It was just a normal day."

"What about Officer Cooper? Something special about his behavior?"

"No. He was glad. Happy", she replied, a small smile on her lips. "He hated the work on his desk, like, writing reports and that stuff. Of course, I did most of it, but he still despised it. He was always happy when he got a new case and had the possibility to go out there and catch criminals. He was a very good cop."

"What about his colleagues? Was there somebody he didn't get along with?"

"No. He was a very socializing person. Easy to get along with. Some other Officers and him even established a basketball team and used to play together twice a week, after work."

"Captain Suther said his best friend was Officer Campillo."

The woman nodded. "Yes. Poor Carlos. He is devastated. He blames himself, says he should have taken care of him."

Jayden raised an eyebrow. "I didn't know they worked together."

"They didn't. That's why he couldn't have done anything about it. But he still blames himself. You need to understand, we're a little bit like a family at the station."

"And there was really no one who had a problem with Cooper?"

She shook her head again, this time, more firm. "Nobody." She looked up. "You don't think one of his colleagues could be involved in this, do you?"

"No, of course not", he lied. "It's just conspicuous that he was shot on the same day as he got the case. The killer must have gotten the information rather fast."

For the first time, she looked at him. Her eyes narrowed and the sorrowful expression was replaced by anger. "Well, he didn't get it from us", she said sharply.

Norman decided to drop the topic for the moment. "Officer Cooper was married?"

She turned her head again, focusing now on the painting on the wall. "Yes. He married two years ago."

"Have you met his wife?"

"Once or twice."

"How would you describe her?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "She's good-looking. A little bit superficial. James…" she hesitated, then corrected herself. "Cooper told me she wasn't really interested in his work. She liked the good reputation, having a police officer as her husband, but she never asked him about his cases."

"Against to you", he stated.

"He knew he could talk to me about everything. He trusted me", she said evadingly.

"And was your interest limited to his work?" he asked.

"I don't understand the question", she replied, leaning back in the chair, crossing her arms before her chest, proving unconsciously that he just had touched a sensitive point.

"Well, you've worked with him for a long time, haven't you?"

"Five years", she said.

"Two people working together for so long usually built up an emotional connection."

"As I already told you, we are more like a family. James and I… I mean, Officer Cooper and me…" she stopped and he could see how she blushed. He decided to be blunt.

"Miss Fender, did you have an affair with him?" he asked.

Her eyes narrowed. "I don't see how this could be relevant for the investigation."

"I suggest you just answer the question."

Her lips formed a very thin line, as she admitted: "Six months. We decided to end it last week."

"And this decision was made by mutual agreement?"

Her expression had turned to clear loathing now. "No."

"Who ended it?"

"James."

"How did you react to the separation?"

"I was angry, of course. I thought he loved me. I thought he would decide to leave his wife and start a new life with me. But before you ask – I didn't give out any information. If I were you, I'd go and see his wife. Ask her some questions. As she found out about the affair, she went totally crazy. She told him she would destroy him if he didn't end it."

Jayden looked at her, surprised. "Didn't you say she never bothered about his work?"

"Well, she didn't. But James always called her when he got a new case and told her what it was about. To increase her interest, I guess."

He nodded and rose to his feet. "Alright, Miss Fender. That's all the questions I have right now. Thanks for your cooperation."

She nodded her head grimly, not bothering to lead him out.

* * *

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Section for technical support 1.3,_

_4th January 2012, 09:52 a.m._

As Charlie had entered the bureau this morning, he had feared this day to turn out like yesterday – with him rushing from computer to computer, enduring laments and curses.

Luckily, it seemed as if he had fixed all errors, so he could continue his work on the newest spy grogram he had invented.

Just as he made progress, someone knocked on the door.

"Come in", he said cheerfully and rose his eyes.

Lauren entered the office, two steaming cups in her hand.

"Hi", she said with a small smile.

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Hi."

"I've just been to the cafeteria and thought I'd bring you a coffee", she hurried to say and put the cup on his desk.

Surprise lit in his eyes. "Wow. Thank you. I don't know how I deserved this treatment, but, nevertheless, thank you."

"Can I sit down?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure."

She took place in the chair in front of his desk and took a sip of her tea.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, after some minutes of silence.

She shook her head. "No… Yes. I'm stuck."

"The investigation?" he asked.

The woman nodded her head. "Yes. I reread all the ballistic reports, because I thought I'd maybe catch another hint… But nothing. It's frustrating."

"This guy seems to be pretty good."

"Or maybe, I'm overlooking something."

"I doubt it. You're good, as well", Charlie replied casually.

She looked up at him. "Do you know that, actually, you're the only nice member of the FBI I met until now? Garland treats me with such arrogance as if I hadn't been a police officer, but a homeless before I applied to the FBI."

"I suspect that being a police officer and being a homeless has the same worth in Garland's world. There's nothing like being an FBI agent, to him. He treats me like an unnerving fly, most of the time."

She nodded her head thoughtfully, then looked up at him. "What are you working on?"

"Spy software. I'm trying to write a program that will be able to sneak into high secured email accounts without being noticed."

"How is it going?"

"Great. Another day, and I will test it on Garland's account", he said and winked at her.

"Give me a call when you do. Could be interesting."

"Sure."

Lauren sighed and stood up. "Well, I guess I'll go back to my office."

"Maybe you should examine the other bullets. Instead of just reading about them", Charlie suggested. "That could help."

She hesitated, then nodded her head. "Yes, maybe. I'll go and ask Garland to send a request. If Chicago gets them sent before two, they might arrive tomorrow."

"Garland's on a presentation at the academy today. Ask Jayden. He should be able to do that as well."

"He's currently interrogating Cooper's colleagues."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "I thought he had been to the police department yesterday?"

"Well, apparently, Cooper's secretary and best friend aren't on duty at the moment and he thinks one of them could be involved in all this."

He heard the change in her voice. "You don't think so?"

"No. But obviously, my opinion only counts as long as it has something to do with ballistics."

Charlie sighed, but didn't comment her statement. "Well, why don't you call him and tell him it's urgent? He'll probably manage to come in between two interrogations. You have his cell phone number, don't you?"

Lauren nodded her head. "Yes. Garland sent it to me, together with his own. Though I doubt he'll come here just to send a request for me."

Charlie shrugged his shoulders. "Well, it doesn't hurt to ask, does it?"

* * *

_James Cooper's apartment,_

_Maryland Avenue,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_4th January 2012, 10:46 a.m._

Olivia Cooper's appearance was the complete opposite of Kate Fender's. She was tall and slender, with long curly brown hair and dark, never resting eyes. She was dressed in an expensive looking black dress. As she had let him in, she hadn't bothered to offer him a seat. Instead, she had opened the balcony door and lit a cigarette, eyeing him with suspicion.

"What do you want?" she asked. "I told Captain Suther everything I know."

"Misses Cooper, I understand your… sorrow. But I have a few questions that need answers", Norman said, then paused and added: "I'm sorry for your loss."

"My loss", she said and laughed short and ironical. "It's not enough that my husband is dead, no. Now I even have to answer questions to the FBI. And the guys from the life insurance basically want me to write a god damn novel before they sell it out. I mean, have a look around. How shall I pay all this? The funeral, the rates for the flat…"

"You don't have a job?"

"I work in a fashion store, but only part-time." She eyed him. "You should visit us once. You know, grey suits are out of fashion for ages. Navy blue is the color of the season."

"Thanks, but I'm fine", he replied.

_Interesting. Her husband died and all she cares about is the insurance and fishing new customers._

She shrugged her shoulders. "If you say so."

"Misses Cooper, did you know what your husband was currently working on?"

"No. I mean, he called me, like always, to tell me what or whom he was after, but I didn't really pay attention to it. I've always had a passion for guys in uniforms, but I never wanted to know the cruel details. I rather try to spruce the abyss up instead of looking into it, if you understand what I'm saying."

Jayden looked at her and raised an eyebrow. After Kate Fender's statement, he had awaited Olivia Cooper to turn out pretty dumb, but she wasn't. Actually, she seemed intelligent. Cold and superficial, yes, but not stupid.

"So, you didn't talk to anybody about your husband's case?"

"No. Why would I talk about it? I only talk about it when he has solved one."

_Yeah, because that's good press, _Jayden thought, but didn't comment it.

"Was there anything special about your husband's call? Did he sound worried?"

"No. He was in a good mood. He promised to take me out for dinner, as a kind of compensation, I guess. Lately, our marriage was a little bit… rocky."

"Because he had an affair with Kate Fender."

The woman put the cigarette out in the ashtray. "That bitch", she said and took a new one out of the package. "Using her girl-next-door-charm to seduce him. She wanted him for ages. I knew that immediately when I first met her. But well, she couldn't compete."

"You must have been angry as you realized he was betraying you."

"Of course I was", she said and looked at him, her voice fierce. "I mean, how would you react? At first, I wanted the divorce. I had already filled in the papers, when I decided not to. James begged me to give it another try and well, basically, this marriage had certain advantages."

_Yeah, like only working part-time._

"Speaking of advantages… How much money can you expect from your husband's life insurance?" he asked matter-of-factly.

The woman shot him a deadly glance. "150.000 dollars."

"Well, that's certainly an amount."

"Listen, I have nothing to do with my husband's murder. I didn't hire this sniper and I never said anything to anyone. If I had wanted my husband's dead, I would have simply poisoned him and made sure to get my ass over the border before sweet Captain Suther or the FBI had even realized he was dead."

He believed her instantly.

She put the second cigarette out and closed the door to the balcony. "Well, are we done? I really need to write that novel for the insurance company. I don't want to sleep under the bridge by next week."

"Sure", Norman said and turned for the door.

"And think about my offer. You'd look ten years younger in navy blue."

He rolled his eyes and walked out of the apartment.

_Well, congratulations, Norman. This was a complete waste of time,_ he thought as he reached his car.

Just as he opened the driver's door, his cell phone rang. He fetched it out of his pocket and looked at it. The number on the display didn't seem familiar to him.

For a second, he wondered if Jamie was now trying to call him anonymously, but then he dismissed the thought. Jamie had never been a coward.

"Norman Jayden", he answered the phone.

"_Lauren Teason."_

He raised an eyebrow. Well, that was a surprise.

"I hope you called me to tell me you found something", he said.

"_Why? No luck with the colleagues?"_

He believed to hear satisfaction in her voice. "Not yet."

"_Well, I'm really sorry to disappoint you, but until now, I haven't got anything new. Which is, actually, the reason I called. I want to send a request to the Chicago police department and get the other bullets. But Garland is on a presentation the whole day and I'd like to get them as soon as possible. I thought maybe you could manage to come to the office shortly so we can send the request before two o'clock. Chicago should be able to send the package with today's mail and it would arrive tomorrow."_

"Yeah, sure. I need a coffee, anyway. Listen, I'm gonna call you as soon as I'm in the office."

"_Great. Thanks."_

And she hung up. He looked at his phone and wondered if he should save the number. Well, they were working on the same case. He'd probably have to call her one day. He opened the address book and entered it, then got into the car.

* * *

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Agent Norman Jayden's office,_

_4th January 2012, 12:33 p.m._

Norman had already filled in most of the request documentary as Lauren entered his office.

"Hi", she said in her usual calm voice.

"Hi", he replied back. "So, you want the bullets? Anything else?"

"Nothing I could think of."

He nodded his head slightly and filled in the last line. "I already called Chicago. They'll send the package as soon as the email arrives", he told her and printed the document, handing it over to her.

She took it and read over it quickly.

"Thank you", she said. "I didn't want to interrupt your investigation."

"You didn't. As I said on the phone, I wanted a coffee, anyway", he said, somehow feeling uncomfortable with her rather friendly behavior. "Besides, your progress is my progress as well, isn't it?"

"Probably", she replied. "So, Kate Fender didn't give you any lead?"

"Well, she told me that Cooper's wife wasn't too lucky as she found out Kate and her husband had had an affair."

"Naturally", Lauren said.

"So I interrogated Misses Olivia Cooper as well. But I'm pretty sure she isn't involved. The only thing she cares about is Cooper's life insurance. Somehow, it seems as if she only married him for this and the good reputation."

"Maybe she just didn't get along with her husband never being at home. It's rather hard to keep a relationship going when you work 50 hours a week. I guess that's why most police officers end up together. To avoid false expectations."

Norman raised an eyebrow and looked at her. "Are you speaking out of experience?"

"No. I'm just rational."

"Well, I bet you could date every agent in the building, if you want it rational", he said a little ironically.

"Including you?" she asked back.

For a moment, he was stunned. He had obviously underestimated her debating skills.

"I'm sorry, you're not my type", he said smoothly.

"What a pity. Well, I guess I'll better go back to the ballistics, so nobody sees my tears", she said and walked out of his office.

* * *

_Carlos Campillo's apartment,_

_New Hampshire Avenue,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_4th January 2012, 14:02 p.m._

As Jayden walked to the second floor of the apartment building, he felt slightly discouraged. At the moment, it looked as if Lauren had been right about the "loyalty" thing between police members. He wondered how it was to work like that. Trust everybody. Chat with everybody. There were agents in the FBI who acted like that, but he had never wanted to become one of them. He was glad to work alone. He could do everything on his own way, without a partner trying to interfere. He rang the doorbell to apartment 2C and hoped this wouldn't turn out just as useless as his other two interrogations.

The door was opened by a tall, muscular man in his early thirties. His hair and eyes were black, his skin tone a little darker than Lauren's. He was the kind of man women looked after on the street.

"Yes?" he asked with a slight hint of a foreign accent.

"Carlos Campillo?"

The man nodded his head and Norman fetched his badge.

"Norman Jayden, FBI. I'd like to ask you some questions about Officer Cooper."

"Ah yes, you FBI guys stole the case, didn't you?" he asked hostile.

"We only followed the protocol."

"Sure you did", Carlos said and stepped away from the door.

Jayden followed him into the little apartment. Campillo didn't offer him a seat, either.

"I heard Livingston's been shot as well. You don't seem to make much progress, do you?" the man asked.

"We follow some leads", Norman replied, already unnerved of the guy's behavior.

"And what leads you here?"

"Captain Suther told me you knew about the case Officer Cooper got."

"Sure I knew about it. We were friends. Friends talk about such things. But I bet you FBI stiffs don't have any friends."

Norman fought the wish to role his eyes. _Better make this one quick, before I get in an argument with this guy._

"Did you tell anyone about it?"

"No", Campillo replied, but his facial expression showed he was lying.

"You should rethink your answer", Jayden said quietly.

"Are you saying I'm lying?" Campillo asked, his voice dangerously low.

"I'm not saying it, I know it. But if you don't want to spit it out, I'm sure we can get an appointment with the lie detector."

The officer glanced at him. "My parents came from Puerto Rico to America, because they thought this was a better country to raise children. I was born here. I have an American passport. I joined the police because I wanted to help this country in its fight against criminality. I should be a detective right now. I earned it. But nobody promotes me. And why? Because my skin isn't white and my accent isn't right. So, I decided to improve my salary. But this has nothing to do with Cooper's death."

_So much to loyalty. Damn, Lauren will be so disappointed._

"Whom did you talk to?"

"Just a guy from the press."

"You met him before?"

"No. He was new."

"Can you describe him?"

Campillo shrugged his shoulders. "Around 1,75. Slender. Brown hair and brown eyes. There was nothing special about him."

"Where did you meet him?"

"On the street."

"Did he tell you his name?"

"Robert Smith. He said he worked for an online blog."

_Robert Smith and an online blog. Yeah, sure._

"I still don't see why this is relevant."

_Well, this guy's surely not a fast thinker. No wonder he didn't get promoted until now._

"The sniper shot Officer Cooper just on the same day as he got the case. Don't you think that's suspicious? I mean, how could he know that Cooper was mingling in his stuff when he only got the case hours before?"

"Wait – you think that guy was the killer?"

"You said it yourself. You've never met him before."

"He wasn't a killer. I would have realized that."

"I doubt that", Norman said.

Campillo narrowed him. "Are you saying I'm stupid?"

"Well, selling out information that leads to the death of a friend isn't really a smart move, is it?"

As Carlos Campillo's fist met his nose, Jayden wished he would have saved himself the last sentence. He fell to the floor, tasting blood on his lips. His ears were ringing and pain shot through his head.

"Asshole", Campillo hissed. "Now get lost before I forget myself."

Norman raised his left to his nose to wipe away the blood, then got back to his feet.

"I should arrest you for this", he swore, still pressing his left to his nose to stop the blood from running down.

"Give it a try, prude."

Norman looked at him. Campillo's features were distorted with rage. Probably he could arrest him, but he was pretty sure the guy would put up quite a fight. And then again, he wouldn't get anywhere with Campillo in a cell.

Carefully, he backed up, not turning his back on the officer. He managed his way down the floor and out of the apartment building to his car and sat down.

His nose was still bleeding, his coat was smeared and he could even spot red stains on his shirt. He cursed silently and looked into the rear window. Well, at least, his nose had the same shape as before, so it probably wasn't broken. Not that this soothed the pain. His right hand shook as he opened the glove department for a tissue.

_Fucking asshole_, he thought as he opened the tissue box and pressed two on his nose. His body protested with pain as he pressed tighter to stop the bleeding. Finally, after five more minutes, the blood stopped flowing. He threw the tissues out on the street. His hands were still shaking, the tremor worse than before, just like the pain in his head.

S_hit. I can't drive like that._

He needed a painkiller. Only that he had none. None except a blue vial in his pocket.

_I shouldn't use it. It's not a painkiller. But I can't drive like that. Maybe if I wait a little longer, try to calm down…_

He focused his attention on breathing. _Inhale. Exhale. Inhale…This is a waste of time! It will never work!_

Quickly, he fetched the vial out of his pocket, had a look around then opened it. His nose protested to the sniffing, but as soon as the Triptocaine had reached his nerves, the pain vanished.

_Norman, Norman, Norman. Two doses in three days? Man, you're never going to quit, _reason interfered.

_Shut up, _he thought. _This was an emergency. It's not like I'm starting again._

_Sure. First, it was only for the test shooting, now it was only for an emergency. Let's see how many other excuses you can find before you break down again._

_I've got everything under control… I've got everything…_

"Under control", he mumbled and started the engine, heading for his apartment. He needed to redress before he got back to his office and taught Lauren Teason a lesson about police loyalty.

* * *

_Union Station,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_4th January 2012, 15:34 p.m._

As a child, Jamie had enjoyed trips to Washington D.C. Wide-eyed, she had tried to catch up everything, the traffic, the people, the shops, the signs on the busses. Whenever her mother or father had taken her to the "big city", it had felt like the speed and rush of it pulsed through her body, making her faster, encouraging her imagination.

As a teenager, she had felt like the city offered every possibility and she had spent sleepless nights fantasizing about her future; when she could do whatever she wanted. She had dreamt about getting a job in the city and finally leaving Tracy's Landing.

But in the time as her nature turned from spontaneous and adventurous to rebellious and careless, the haste of the city had given everything a dramatic push, when actually, she would have needed something to tame her.

And as life forced her to grow up, the city repelled her more and more, an always present image of her failures. To her, it seemed like all her bad decisions had their origins in the city. And to be honest, almost all of her misjudgments had taken place here.

Therefore, as she stepped out of the train station and set her feet on Washington's ground, a shiver of discomfort ran down her back.

_Take it easy. You didn't plan all this just to run away now._

She took a deep breath and put a strain of her mid long dark blonde hair behind her ears. She fetched her phone out of her purse and switched to the address book, scrolling down, stopping at the entry: _Norman._

For a second, she felt intrigued to call. Maybe, if he heard she was in Washington, he would finally agree to meet her. After all, he knew how much trouble it caused her to come here, how many preparations she had to make. This was different to the hundreds of phone calls he had received from her. This was the last effort she could make to convince him she was seriously sorry. This visit was the ultimate confession of her care.

_You betrayed me, Jamie. Now leave. And don't you dare to come back._

She returned the phone to her purse. No, it was no use. He wouldn't pick up. And even if he finally did, after two years of nagging silence between them, he would never agree to meet her.

To accept her apology, he would need to understand that her actions had been based on her clear devotion and love to him.

His forgiveness was all she wanted, now. First, she had tried somehow to convince him that she had had no other choice. That he had been dead in the water, because of his addiction.

But no matter what she had said, no matter how she had said it, he had never given in. To him, admitting being addicted had meant admitting he had failed and failing was the worst thing imaginable. While Jamie had learnt that failing was just like falling and that you simply had to get on your feet again, no matter how hard you hit the ground, Norman considered failing as the proof of his own imperfection and futility.

Sometimes, she blamed herself for not having prevented all this, somehow. But as Jamie had started to understand how dangerously he fought to reach a non-existent perfection, it had already been too late.

The truth was: she had been so focused on herself that she hadn't realized she was losing him to some sacred goals and praised glasses.

But still, though maybe it was all too late, though maybe she had placed her bets on the wrong plan, she couldn't give up. She would never give up.

* * *

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Agent Norman Jayden's office,_

_4th January 2012, 15:57 p.m._

Norman still felt angry as he returned to his office. The pain had stopped, due to the Triptocaine, but the anger had remained. He didn't really know at whom he was angrier – Carlos Campillo, who had sold his friend out for some bucks and hadn't even realized what he was doing – or himself, for getting hit by the lunatic. Sometimes, he wondered if he should take another course in combat at the academy. It had never been his favorite subject, while other agents had only lived for it. He considered himself more a man for thinking than for beating. Or shooting. Or any other action involving brutality. One reason, out of many, while he had been on his own at academy, most of the time. Yet, ironically, he ended up in fights whenever he worked on a case. It seemed like fate loved to make fun of him.

He looked at the watch and furrowed his brows. He had called Lauren five minutes ago. What the hell was she doing? Manicuring her nails?

Just as he took the phone and wanted to dial the number of ballistics again, the door to his office opened and the woman came in.

"You called me", she said.

He put down the phone. "Yeah, five minutes ago."

"I had to finish a test shooting." She looked at him. "What happened to your nose?"

He ignored her comment. "We have a new lead. Carlos Campillo sold information to the press."

"He was a mole?"

Norman grinned wryly. "Yeah. I'm sorry I have to destroy your high opinion about police loyalty."

"Moles are a problem everywhere. If I did some research, I'd surely find one or two in the history of the FBI as well. And how does Campillo's business with the press help us out?"

"Well, apparently, the guy he talked to about Cooper's case wasn't a reporter. Campillo had never met him before, no newspaper reported about it and the reporter called himself: Roger Smith. And there's no reporter with that name in Washington. I already checked."

"You think he could be our killer?"

"Most likely. I bet Roger Smith is a fake identity. Nevertheless, you could check weapon database if there's a Roger Smith in Washington who owns a gun license. I bet it's a waste of time, but we'll better be sure."

"Sure", Lauren replied, paused and added: "You should see a doctor."

"Please spare me your advices. They only get me in trouble", he snapped at her.

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you blaming me?"

"If I hadn't listened to your stupid police loyalty report, then none of this would have happened."

"Yeah, I bet you didn't say anything to Campillo that could have provoked him", the woman replied sarcastically.

"It doesn't matter! He's guilty!"

"Of course it matters! Alright, what Campillo did was miserable, but Officer Cooper was his friend! How would you feel if you found out you were guilty for your friend's death?"

"I don't care how he feels, he…"

"No, you don't. You don't care about the feelings of anybody and you don't care if you fuck up with everyone around you. If you had played this clever, Campillo might have agreed to help us finding this Roger Smith. But no, you had to confront him with his failure, because that's the way you get your kicks, by proving that you are sooo superior to everyone and we should all bow before you. If I had been Campillo, I would have at least broken your nose!"

"You know what? Why don't you just fuck off?" Jayden said angrily.

Just as Lauren wanted to reply, a female voice behind her said: "Who shall fuck off? Me, or her?"

Puzzled, Lauren turned around. Behind her stood a woman in her twenties, arms crossed before her chest, her hazel eyes sparkling with amusement.

Norman stared at her as if she was a ghost. "Jamie?"

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you remember my name? Well, that's certainly a start." Her voice sounded was calm and controlled. She turned to Lauren and stretched out her hand. "Hi. I'm Jennifer Jayden. But just call me Jamie, everyone does."

"Lauren Teason", she replied mechanically.

_Okay, wait a second… Did she say Jayden? This guy is married?_

Jamie smiled at her slightly. "I'm sorry for disturbing your… conversation."

"We were finished", Norman said. "And we are, as well. Get out of my office, Jamie. Now."

"Yes, I will. As soon as you take your coat and agree to accompany me for dinner."

"Well, I'm glad you haven't lost your sense for humor", he said sarcastically. "Get lost."

"I'm not joking, Norman. You may be able to avoid my calls, but don't you dare to think I'll let you throw me out after I sneaked out under father's eyes just to see you. You will have dinner with me, if you like it or not."

"Or what? You force me?"

"Or I will check in into a hotel and visit you here every day until you finally give in", she said calmly.

He stared at her, his glance deadly. "You wouldn't dare to."

"Try it."

"Wait outside", he snapped at her. "And don't even start to believe this will change anything."

"No, of course not. You're made out of steel, aren't you? Except your nose, as it appears", Jamie said.

"Okay, well… I guess I'll better leave. I need a cigarette, anyway", Lauren said and stepped over to the door.

"Can I accompany you?" the woman asked. "Then I don't have to ask the secretary to call someone who'll lead me out."

Lauren felt the urgent wish to say no. Whatever was going on here – she didn't want to be a part in it.

"Yes, sure", she said and cursed herself. She should have just gone back to her office.

"Thank you", Jamie said and followed her out.

As they reached the front exit, Lauren prayed the woman would just walk off, but of course, her prayers weren't heard.

"Would you give me a cigarette?" the woman asked instead, just as she had lit herself one.

"Yes, of course." She held the package out to her.

"Alright. That didn't go too well", Jamie said with a sigh. "Listen, I'm really sorry I bolted in."

"No, no. I'm sorry… I should have gone immediately as you came in. I just didn't… know this was going to be personal."

"How could you have known? I bet my brother never mentioned me."

Stunned, Lauren looked at her. "Wait a second – you're his sister?"

"What else?"

"Well… his wife?"

Jamie shook her head and smiled slightly. "You thought this was a marital row?"

"Er… yes. You said you had to sneak out under your father's eyes to see him, but if you are his sister, that means you had to sneak out under his father's eyes as well…"

"It's complicated", the woman admitted.

_Obviously. And it's none of your business at all, girl._

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… sound curious", Lauren said quickly.

"You're an agent, too, are you?" Jamie asked.

"Yes."

"And you're working with my brother?"

"Not really. I'm only responsible for the ballistic reports."

"And you argue over ballistic reports?" Jamie asked quietly.

"We had a clash of opinions", Lauren replied. "Or something like that."

"Well, I'm not surprised he argues with you", Jamie said matter-of-factly. "My brother doesn't get along with most people. Most of all, if they intimidate him."

"I think it's more a sort of antipathy."

Jamie shook her head. "Believe me, it's not. I could easily explain it to you…"

"You shouldn't", Lauren said and put the cigarette out in the ashtray. "I have no tendency to invade his privacy."

Surprise lit in Jamie's eyes, but she said nothing.

"I have to go back in", Lauren said. "It was nice to meet you."

The younger woman just nodded and Lauren entered the building. She walked down to the ballistics, trying to forget all she had just heard, but her mind couldn't let go. Nothing about it added up. And if there was one thing Lauren hated, it was when stories didn't add up.

_A/N: Ten pages? I must have lost my mind. Anyways, reviews are love, even if you want to tell me you hated it. So, don't be shy._


	6. Interventions

**Chapter 6: Interventions**

_FBI Headquarter,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_Ballistics,_

_4th January 2012, 17:22 p.m._

Lauren tossed her pen over the desk. For half an hour, she had tried to concentrate on the case, tried to make a plan about her further course of action, but it had been totally useless. As she had applied to the FBI, she had sworn herself to leave the familiar business of the police behind. She had sworn not to start any private relationships at work. All she had wanted was to get her job done, without any complications.

But complications seemed to love her, as it just had been proven an hour ago. She sighed and shook her head. His sister. His god damn sister. Why did you avoid phone calls from your sister? And why didn't their father want them to meet?

Was this some kind of family war, or was there more behind it? Something that could bother his work? Something that could bother hers?  
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Yes", she said. _No more trouble, please. I've had enough for today._

Her body relaxed as Charlie came in.

"Hey, you're still here?" he asked, his lips curling into a youthful grin.

"Apparently, yes."

The man took the other chair and sat down. "Still trying to crack the case?"

"No, not really", Lauren replied, then looked at him and hesitated. She could ask Charlie about it, of course. He was his best friend. But if she asked now she would take a full step into private matters and she wanted to avoid this. Needed to avoid this. On the other hand, if there was really something going on that could endanger the work; she might have no other choice. While her reason was still writing a list of arguments and counterarguments, her lips already formed the question:

"What is going on with Jayden and his sister?"

There, it was out. No chance to back off now. She wondered slightly how soon she would regret this.

For a second, Charlie just stared at her. "How do you know about Jamie?"

"I just met her. An hour ago."

"What? Where?"

"Here", Lauren said quietly.

"Here? You mean like… here? Inside the FBI?"

"Well, if you want to know the exact location: in Jayden's office. She came in just as we finished a little argument."

"Where is she now?" Charlie asked.

"She's taken her brother out for dinner. By the way, I thought she was his wife."

"No, she's his younger sister…"

"Yes, I got that, now."

"And he agreed to have dinner with her?"

"Well, apparently, she has her way to persuade people."

"She's stubborn as a mule, that's for sure. It's genetic", Charlie said absent-minded.

"Listen, I don't want to mingle in this and I don't want to know the whole story. All I want to know is whether there's something I should know that could affect the work", Lauren explained.

Charlie raised her eyes to her. _Oh yes, sweetheart, there's certainly one thing you should know and it's about glasses and blue powder,_ he thought. _Only that I can't tell you._

"That depends", he said.

"On what?"

"On how you want this cooperation to go on."

Lauren looked at him. "I don't understand."

"Alright. Hm, how do I put this? Yeah. What is going on between the two of them will not endanger the case, or his work, or your work. But if I tell you about it – after you've sworn on the Bible, or the Koran or on "Shades of Grey" by E.L. James that you won't say a single word to him – you might understand why he acts like he acts and by that, your cooperation might become a little less… rocky."

"Our cooperation isn't rocky."

"Yes, it is. You just said something about an argument."

"Oh, come on. That was nothing", Lauren said.

"Yeah, it was nothing. And that's the point. You're arguing about nothing, while you work on a case that I would state on highly dangerous. I'm not saying you need to love each other. But I think a little more trust and a little more… diplomacy would minimize the time and resources you're wasting by accusing each other of being arrogant pricks. You're both grown-ups, you should be able to work together even if you don't want to spend your free-time with each other."

Lauren thought about his words and slowly nodded your head. "You're probably right. I just… I just don't want to… get too close."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "To Jayden? Don't worry. It took a year until I was close to him and believe me, in this case, 90-60-90 isn't helping."

"90-60-90? Check your glasses", Lauren said with a small hint of amusement.

Charlie nudged her from aside. "Now tell me, Cleopatra, shall I invite you for a drink and shed some light into all this?"

"Alright, Mister Edison. Enlighten me."

* * *

_Acqua al 2,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_4th January 2012, 17:40 p.m._

If there was one thing Jamie would die for, it was pizza. Her serious addiction to it was the only reason she attended the fitness center twice a week, so she wouldn't end up round as a ball. As her brother had taken her to this pizzeria, she had thought it was a good sign. But now, as they sat in front of each other in disturbing silence, she dismissed the thought. The waiter came over and she ordered a glass of water, together with a pizza, while he only ordered a coffee.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked.

"I'm going to eat at home", he replied and leant back in his chair, avoiding her gaze.

"Right", Jamie said with a sigh and started to unfold the napkin, only to fold it again.

"I collected the press articles about the Origami killer case", she said as she laid the napkin aside.

He raised an eyebrow, but didn't reply.

"I wanted to tell you, on phone, but well, you didn't pick up."

"Yeah. Should have been an indication I don't want to speak to you. But you didn't get it, did you?" he said with held back anger.

"Oh yes, I did get it. I just didn't accept it", she replied and looked at him. "Did you ever think about picking up?"

He avoided her gaze.

"Damn it, Norman, I'm your sister. What was your plan? Never speak to me again? Never?"

"I would have only needed more time!" he said defensively.

"More time? It's been two years!"

Norman shook his head slightly. He wished he wouldn't have given in to this. It was a complete waste of time.

"Alright, listen", Jamie said and took a deep breath. "You can loathe me, if you want. And ignore me. For the rest of your life, if you feel like it. Punish me, if you must. Hurt me. It's okay, I will survive it. But tell me, did you think about Sam, for one second? Because you're punishing him as well, for my faults. And that's not fair. He misses you. He asks me when you will visit again every week. He even asked me whether you don't like him anymore. I tried to tell him you're busy, I tried to tell him it wasn't his fault, but he doesn't believe me anymore. But I can't tell him the truth because he is only ten years old and wouldn't understand."

For a second, their eyes met. Then he turned his head again.

"Okay", Jamie said. "Okay." And she rose. "I'm sorry I bolted into your office. I thought, if we could talk, there might be some way you'd forgive me. But obviously, I was wrong." She paused a second and blinked. "I wished you could understand that I never meant to hurt you. I was just so scared and so worried about you, I couldn't think of handling the situation in any other way. I hoped you would at least agree to… talk to your nephew again, because he loves you so much. And I love you so much…" She paused again. "It was stupid. Forgive me. Or don't. Do whatever you want." And she walked out of the restaurant just in the moment as the pizza arrived.

* * *

_Rick's bar,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_4th January 2012, 18:03 p.m._

Charlie couldn't remember ever having been in the bar that early, but then again, he had never taken a woman with him, as well. As he led Lauren to the table in the corner, he could feel the stares of the already present guests and a slight grin crept on his lips. Well, this would surely push his reputation a little bit more to the good side.

As soon as they sat down, Rick was at the table.

"Evening, Charlie", he said and his eyes fell on Lauren's features. "And who is this bewitching lady?"

Lauren raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Rick, this is Lauren, a friend of mine. Lauren, this is Rick."

"Nice to meet you", Lauren said politely.

"The pleasure is all mine", Rick replied with a generous smile. "What do you want to drink?"

"Water, please", Lauren said.

"One beer, like always", Charlie said.

Rick nodded and went to the bar, while Charlie looked at her. "Water?"

"I don't drink", she explained.

"Never?"

"Never."

"Now, don't tell me you had an alcohol problem in your youth", he joked.

"Didn't we all?" she replied with a smile.

"Touché."

Rick arrived with their drinks and another smile for Lauren.

The woman took a sip of her glass. "So, you call me a friend now? You're rather quick."

"I have to. I mean, I wouldn't give out information of a friend to a colleague, would I?"

"Actually, I'm really surprised you tell them to me."

"I wouldn't, if I wasn't a hundred percent sure you'd keep your mouth shut."

"Believe me, I'm not going to say anything. As I already told you, I'm not too eager to get too close to anybody."

"Well, I guess I'm the exception."

Lauren looked at him and for a second, melancholia shone in her eyes. "You remind me of a friend of mine. Back… at home."

"Home?"

"NYC."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're from New York?"

She nodded her head and fixed her eyes on the glass.

"So, you worked at the NYPD?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why did you leave?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Something personal."

Charlie looked at her and decided not to ask further. She seemed uncomfortable talking about it.

_Give it time,_ he thought. _You just met her._

"So, what about Jamie Jayden? I must admit, she was pretty impressing", Lauren said.

"Oh yes, she is."

"She doesn't seem to have much in common with her brother. I mean, she seems… more vivid."

"Yeah, Jamie is the emotional one of the two. She was a bit of a wild child at high school, but she got her act together as her son was born. She was only sixteen. Her father was out of his mind."

"Wow. Understandable. My uncle would have locked me in the cellar if I had been pregnant with sixteen."

"As far as I heard, it was actually the best that could happen to her. Made her reasonable. She used to come to Washington rather regular before… the event. She keeps the family together. Well, she tries."

"What happened between them?" Lauren asked.

Charlie sighed. "About two years ago, Jayden was going through a little bit of a… rough time. As it got worse, I called Jamie and asked her to visit him. I thought she would be able to reason him. But she couldn't. She called me afterwards. She was very worried, just like I was, but we didn't know what to do. So, Jamie decided to tell the whole matter to their father. And then, everything went down the tube."

"Why?" Lauren asked.

"Well, Norman's relationship to his father was always… rocky. He's a hot shot inside the CIA. But don't tell anyone, or I'll probably get shot."

"CIA?" Lauren asked and swallowed hard. _CIA. Fuck. Could this get any worse?_

"Yes. I don't think he was too happy his son decided for the competitor. Though probably, he didn't mind. After their mother died, their father put all his effort in his work. Jamie's pregnancy finally opened his eyes, but I guess by that time, it was already too late for him to build up a normal relationship with his son. He had missed two many graduations and overlooked too many achievements. Or maybe, he had just taken them as granted.

And as Jamie told him about the trouble his son had gotten in, he chose a very dramatic way to interfere, without even talking to Norman or anything like that. And of course, Norman blamed his sister for what happened. He said she had betrayed him and basically told her to fuck off. Jamie was devastated, of course, but well, as I already said: stubbornness is in their genes. Her showing up here is probably her last try to make things up."

"So that's the reason he doesn't trust anybody. Because his sister betrayed him once", Lauren said.

"Well, I think he's always been a mistrusting person. He's the kind of guy who rather read books than went to a party in high school."

"Hey, I read books in high school, as well. But I don't mistrust everybody."

"Yeah, but I bet you've never been a loner in high school. I mean, you're adorable. Even if you had been a Star Trek fan, the boys would have still tried to get in your pants."

"One or two", Lauren admitted.

"See. It's not like he isn't a nice guy, only you need a lot of time and patience to discover that his arrogance is actually a self-defense mechanism, built to chase away the people who only want to take advantage of him."

"Yeah, only that it chases away everyone. If he'd act a little bit more human, there wouldn't be half so many agents chattering about him."

"I know that, as well. But go and try to tell him", Charlie said and sighed.

"So, you want to tell me to be a little more patient?"

"Yes. And ignore some of his comments. I know it's hard, but hey, if I can manage this, you can do, as well. I think it would really optimize your work."

Lauren sat silent for some seconds, then said: "Well, I guess I can…. tame my temper a little bit more."

Charlie smiled at her, his eyes bright. "That would be great."

* * *

_Acqua al 2,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_4th January 2012, 18:02 p.m._

Norman stared at the steaming pizza in front of him, the last reminder of Jamie's visit. She probably hadn't eaten anything today. Jamie had never been able to eat when she was nervous and she certainly had been. Suddenly, he felt remorse. He was still angry at her, yes, but she had come to Washington, though she knew their father would be disappointed and angry if he found out. And she had left Sam at home, something she hated to do. He remembered the time when he had just started working for the FBI. She had been the only one who visited him, the only one who had been proud when he had solved a case. Basically, she had always been the only one who really cared about him, after their mother had died. She had helped him to decide for his studies and for a college, though she had been sad she hadn't had the opportunity to choose one, as well, after Sam's birth. She had never been mean to him, or laughed about him, though she had been a famous kid in high school and he had been a nerd. Even in her wild days, she had spent some weekends at home with him and had watched a documentary, though she usually had fallen asleep after half an hour.

And then she had made one mistake – a terrible one, for him, alright, but just one – and he had cast her off without a second thought. It had been easy, as long as he hadn't seen her. Easy to act like she didn't even exist. Easy to forget all the good things she had done and just remember the one failure.

He called the waiter and paid, asking him to put the pizza in a box so he could take it with him. Then he rushed out of the pizzeria.

* * *

_Independence Avenue,_

_Washington, D.C.,_

_4th January 2012, 18:11 p.m._

Jamie's heels clacked on the sidewalk as she hurried down the street. The cold wind made her eyes watery. Well, maybe not only the wind. She wiped over them quickly, angrily and lifted her collar higher. God, she was so stupid. Thinking a trip to Washington would change anything. She should have stayed at home. Everything had been in vain. The story she had so carefully made up for her father. Finding a babysitter for Sam. Everything just in vain.

She just increased her speed, as she could hear someone call her name. For a second, she wanted to turn, but she was too angry, too disappointed to stop now. Besides, the tears were now running down her cheeks and she would not show him she was crying. She would not let him have this satisfaction as well. She crossed the street, without really looking out for the cars. Someone beeped at her and she just raised her middle finger, still walking on. She had just reached the intersection down the street, as her arm was grabbed and she made a compulsory turn, looking right into her brother's green eyes.

She tried to free herself from his grip, eventually succeeding. "I thought you wanted me to leave. Why do you follow me up?" she asked angrily, wiping her eyes again.

"I thought you were hungry", he said and held the pizza box out at her. She stared at it, then back at him and before she knew what she was doing, she threw her arms around him.

Her fist met his chest rather hard as she said: "I hate you, you know that?"

"Yeah", he said, resting his left hand carefully between her shoulder blades, the right still busy to keep the pizza box from falling down to the ground. She gripped his coat tightly and buried her head at his shoulder.

"I tried to keep dad from sending you to that hospital. I really tried. But he didn't listen to me."

"I know", he said quietly.

Finally, she stepped back and looked at the pizza box. "Is there some place we can sit down? I'm really starving."

"There's a park five minutes from here. Though I bet the benches will be rather cold."

"I don't care. Let's go", she said and linked arms with him.

As they had reached the park, Jamie walked over to the first bench, pulled her coat down and took seat. He gave her the pizza box, but kept standing.

"Don't you want to sit down?" she asked and took the first slice of pizza out.

He shook his head. "No. I'll leave the pleasure of cystitis to you."

She grinned slightly. "I thought FBI agents are immune to any kind of diseases."

"I'd rather not push my luck."

He watched her while she ate her pizza with clear delight.

_She really looks exactly like mom. The same hair color, the same hazel eyes. The same smile._

Norman had always assumed that their father had cared more for her because she was the spitting image of his beloved wife. If there was one good thing he could say about him, it was that he had been truly devoted to her. Just as Norman. While his father had been nothing but a random appearing shadow in his youth, his mom had always been there for him. He had spent his childhood days sitting in the kitchen when she cooked, reading a book, or watching her iron the clothes. She had always been smiling. Even as the cancer had eaten its way through her body and her eyes had been filled with pain, she had still smiled at him and had told him everything would be alright. Of course, it hadn't been alright.

Jamie finished the last slice of pizza and wiped her mouth with the napkin.

"So, how is Sam?" he asked.

"Good. He's doing well. At the moment, he is crazy after magic tricks", she said with a smile.

"You should take him to Las Vegas for a magic show."

"I think he is a little bit too young for Las Vegas. Besides, I doubt his girlfriend would like the idea."

Norman stared at her. "His girlfriend?"

"Oh yes. A cute, blonde girl called Leah. This week, he came to me, totally excited, and told me they held hands in school."

"Wow. Don't you think it's too early for things like that?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "As long as he's only holding hands, I'm fine with it." She eyed him. "What about you? What's your current marital status?"

"Me? I'm free as a bird", he replied, in an attempt of joking.

"Really? And I thought you couldn't handle all your admirers after the Origami Killer case."

"I've got a lot of work to do."

"Well, then work less. You're not getting any younger."

He frowned at her. "Don't tell me you got someone."

"Hey, I've got a ten year old child. That's a KO criterion for most men. What about that woman?"

He raised an eyebrow in irritation. "Which woman?"

"The one from your work. The one you told to fuck off."

"Wait- you mean Lauren?"

Amusement lit in Jamie's eyes. "Well, she's obviously a woman. A very beautiful one."

"Maybe. But first, she's not my type. Second, I work with her. Third – she hates me."

"No, she doesn't", she said casually.

Norman looked at her. "Don't tell me you talked to her."

"Relax. I just burrowed a cigarette from her. We didn't talk about you. Still, I think she seemed rather nice. Why did you argue with her?"

"It was nothing", he said evadingly.

"So, she did nothing to anger you, but you still argued with her?"

He sighed. "Something like that. We had a rather… bad start."

"Well, maybe you should try to make it up. I mean, you need to work with her, don't you? Wouldn't it be easier to work together if you at least got along?"

"Yeah. Maybe", he gave in.

"See."

"Probably I should really… apologize to her for today."

"Great. Buy her some flowers. Or chocolate. No, cancel the chocolate. Maybe she's concerned about her weight."

"I'm not going to buy her flowers. She'll think I want to date her or something like that."

Jamie shrugged her shoulders. "Well, you could do a lot worse than dating her, I think."

He shot her a glance and she grinned slightly. She threw the pizza box into the garbage can, then her expression went serious.

"And, except from your usual arguments, how's your work going?"

"Okay. Though the case I got is a real nightmare. Nothing but dead ends."

Jamie nodded her head and went silent.

"What?"

"Nothing", she replied, but her expression showed different.

"I'm clean. In case this is what you want to ask."

She raised her head and he could see the relief in her eyes.

_Oh Norman, you're such a liar._

"I'm glad. I was really worried I would… lose you to this stuff. And I can't lose you, too. Losing mom… was enough."

He just nodded her head, not saying anything.

Jamie looked at her watch. "Oh shit, is it really that late?" She jumped off the bench. "I have to hurry. The last train back home leaves in half an hour."

And she searched her purse for her phone.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she dialed the number.

"I'm calling a taxi."

"I can drive you."

"Thanks, but I don't think I've got enough time to head back to the pizzeria first."

He waited till she put the phone back in her purse and accompanied her out of the park to the street. As the taxi drove over, she embraced him a last time. "You'll call me now, will you?" she whispered.

"Yeah. I promise", he said.

Jamie let go off him and smiled, then got into the taxi.

He watched it drive down the street and sighed. Suddenly, he realized how much he had missed her the whole time.

_A/N: Ow, how peaceful it is in Washington D.C. But don't worry, this is not going to last. After all, there's someone we need to get rid off, don't you agree?_


End file.
